


My Stubborn Galra Prince

by Simpira



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altea Kingdom, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Boys' Love, First Love, Fluff and Humor, Galra Empire, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hybrids, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, M/M, Public Sex, Romance, Same-Sex Marriage, Slow Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-15 17:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simpira/pseuds/Simpira
Summary: Prince Keith, the next ruler of the Galra kingdom, has chosen to remain single. Forever.His parents, worried he might end up being the laughing stock of the Galra nation, have made the tough decision of finding him an ideal suitor. However, no one is good enough for his abrasive Highness. Much less the firstborn of the kingdom of Altea, who has proven to be the last one in the list.Prince Lance has flatly refused to give his hand to his mortal childhood enemy. In a last attempt to convince him, he agreed meeting him under one condition. Unfortunately, he does not have the slightest idea of the pranks that await him in the neighboring territory.Can the romance between them flourish or perish in the attempt?





	1. I HATE THEM!

**Author's Note:**

> CHAPTER 1 - CORRECTED.
> 
> Thank you for giving this story an opportunity. I'm not a native speaker so this was roughly translated from one of my fanfictions in spanish. Lizzy, a fellow user and my current beta reader, is helping me correct certain mistakes. Please, do thank her for her effort :)

**I HATE THE GALRA! STUPID PURPLE CATS.**

 

 

On the tenth birthday of Prince Lance, a letter with his name written on it arrived. He was cordially invited to one of the most important events in the whole kingdom of Altea: the birth of a dragon, whose existence was a rarity in recent times. They are magical creatures, that can live up to a millennium on the Voltron continent. Each year, the sanctuary gardens opened their doors, with the intention of celebrating the arrival of a new hybrid. They prepared various dishes, hired musicians and sent invitations to every corner of the region, requesting the prompt assistance of royal families and their nobles.

When the news came, the little Altean did not waste time in preparing himself. One of the seamstresses provided him a formal suit with precisely made floral embroidery on the back. Once he was ready, he waited at the main gates and begged the guards to let him go before the date. Nevertheless, the request was rejected and his captain had to drag him back to his room. On the third moon, he finally boarded the carriage in the company of the kings and went to their destination. All the way, Lance could not stop babbling about how excited he was and once they had arrived at the summit of the mountains, he ran off, heading towards the small farm the wizards had arranged at the entrance. After playing with some small animals, the infant could not wait to see the main attraction. He passed the stone arch and down the steep steps, until he reached the marble floor. His father followed him closely, taking him by the hand.

"This is so COOL, dad!" shrieked Lance.

The different habitats were protected from any climate change. Each space provided a suitable home for the variety of dragons. Wide prairies, icy snowfields, rocky desert structures and volcanic areas with a burning temperature. They were sheltered by a force field that kept them safe, as well as their innumerable visitors. In complete euphoria, Lance admired the scales that reflected striking art designs and a glow which resembled real diamonds themselves. He gaped at the fire coming from their fascinating mouths. From the bottom of his heart, he knew immediately that his life would have to revolve around those beautiful beasts. Their grandeur had him spellbound.

"Dad, they're bigger than my toys!" He snapped, clutching his fingers. "Could we get one?" He insisted, tugging at his sleeves. "Please."

King Alfor rubbed his chin and seemed to consider it. Without waiting for an answer, his son slipped out of his grip and slipped through the crowd, pushing his way through with his tiny fists. "Don't go so fast!" Alfor admonished, running after him.

Lance approached the glass that separated him from a huge ice dragon. Its scales gave off an icy curtain of mist, partially obscuring its silhouette. From the top of a block, the animal watched the little children who came to touch the magic crystal closely. After a while, he laid his jaw between his legs and fell into a pleasant rest. "I want one!" Lance demanded. "Now that he is sleeping, we could put him in the carriage and take him home with us. You just have to use your magic."

"I don't know, sweetheart," Alfor muttered, standing behind him, wrapping his tiny shoulders affectionately. "We should ask your mother".

"But mom does not have to know. Why do we not leave her here and take the dragon instead? She is always upset and yells at me every chance she gets. Why did not you marry someone else? Why do you not marry Miss Dragon and give me dragon brothers? Allura can be a pain in the ass too."

"Son, you ask a lot of questions," he said, smiling. "No matter how much of a hag she can be, she is your mother and I love her very much." Alfor chuckled at his own comment. If his wife heard him, he would get in trouble. With a laughing expression, he slipped his fingers over the boy's silver hair and caressed him.

"Do you consider me a stingy pig, because I didn't give you the ring you wanted so much for our thirteenth anniversary?" The sudden voice of his lover made him jump.

The queen, Vanya, had returned in company of the royal squadron. Her lips twisted in a sardonic grimace, studying the perplexed face of her husband. Alfor avoided her gaze, biting his lower lip. He wanted to say _yes_ , for the times his wife had only being thoughtful enough in bed whenever their domains were crammed with large quantities of perfumed oils, which they only used during their erotic events. Of course, it only happened, when his wife was in a good mood. Sometimes, or actually most of the time, she was utterly stingy when it came to their wedding anniversaries. The last time she gave him a pair of woolen socks, and he wanted to throw them directly to her face. How unromantic! Vanya advanced with magnificence, wearing a marvelous navy blue dress. With arrogance, she took her partner's chin and gave him a sudden kiss. As they parted, Alfor staggered and lost his visibility momentarily. He quickly grabbed his heir's shoulders to keep his balance.

"Be careful with what you say, darling," she warned him sensually, offering him a small wink. "Or I will have to take other measures when we are alone."

Like a total seducer, Vanya picked a long strand of hair and accommodated it behind her spouse's ear; planting a delicate kiss, that intensified his blush. Alfor returned the gesture with a sweet gaze.

"Mom!" Lance called, who had watched the scene with disgust.

The child tugged at Vanya's sleeves and aimed his index finger at one of the sleeping monsters. With a skeptical look, the mother looked at both family members and raised an eyebrow, folding her arms.

" _No._ "

"But mom!"

Desperate for a positive response, Lance looked pleadingly at the king, hoping, that his cuteness would convince the permissive parent. As expected from a bad father, Alfor would have not minded being coaxed by his own son, knowing perfectly well that his wife's response would not change. When Vanya gave a resounding _no_ , not even the heavenly gods themselves could intervene. With pain in his heart, Alfor shook his head.

"WAAAAAH!"

A sharp thud made them react. Lance had flung himself the floor and fluttered his limbs as thick tears leaped in the company of crude words beginning with all the letters of the alphabet. Vanya had the dire need to give him a couple of slaps back and forth.

"You brat!" snarled Vanya, pulling him to his feet. "Act like a prince!"

A blow behind the head was what triggered roaring howls. It was not as powerful as the fearsome flip-flop, but brutal enough to make him scream at the top of his lungs. "He deserved it," or so Vanya believed. Alfor had been spoiling him too much. Every day he stuffed himself with sweets, sneaked into town and played awful pranks on the commoners, destroyed private property and did not know how to behave in front of the other nobles. His son was an annoyance. And to think that he would have to take over the kingdom, she was definitely not amused.

"What would you do with a dragon in the first place?" She snorted. "Show them your playhouse? Drink tea?"

"Don't talk to the boy like that." Alfor stepped up in his defense, kneeling beside him. "Easy, baby. Daddy is here with you."

Lance slapped his father's hand away and inhaled all the snot that fell on his greenish shirt. He wiped his cheeks with his sleeves and stuck out his tongue.

"I hate you!" He shouted, fleeing from his side to the tumult of people.

The couple sent the guards a simple order as soon as it happened. The guards marched in haste, dodging and making their way through so many visitors. For a moment, they lost sight of him until they recognized his shrieks very close to the entrance.

Before beginning, the tour in the sanctuary, there was an area that had been set up to provide various snacks. In the middle of it, Lance could not stop moving around in the air. It was quite a spectacle, especially for the perplexed Prince Keith. The Galra had never seen an Altean and could not tear his gaze away from him. He had an exotic attraction: a wild mane as resplendent as a sword, his dark blue eyes that accentuated his features and an angelic face, despite being extremely distressed. Keith had found a creature far more interesting than the shitty dragons, which dared to ignite his favorite pair of boots.

"Do you not see where you're going, stupid cat?" grumbled Lance, rubbing his nose.

The Altean prince had ran into the hard abdomen of one of the most recognizable relatives in the northern hemisphere: King Zarkon. He took him by the neck, lifting him without difficulty until Lance’s face was in front of his own. Lance continued cursing him, urging him to put him back down on the floor, before his father knows about this. The Galra laughed loudly, sending a ridiculous trembling through the body of his soldiers. They could not believe that a mere brat was badmouthing his majesty.

"Language, kid," said Haggar, his recent wife, who stepped forward with their heir.

Keith, from below, raised his hood slightly to look at the Altean boy that never stopped swinging his feet. There was something about him that intrigued him. Any doubts he was considering were interrupted by the arrival of other soldiers. In a slow phase, a pair of kings was escorted by their battalion. As soon as she saw her friends, Haggar asked her husband to take the child to the arms of his parents.

"It's a pleasure to see you," Alfor said.

Lance hid his face in Alfor's chest. His mother glared at him when he was returned. Both couples bowed.

"Sorry. Lance has proven to be a rebel," said Vanya. "Maybe we should punish him with the wooden spoon." She paused, her gaze resting on a hooded figure. "And who do we have here? Is he not a little overweight to be your guard?"

The couple looked at each other and let out a dull snore. Zarkon shook his head and patted the boy's shoulder, whose suit covered him like a gift wrap. The only visible things were his plump hands and nose.

"Keith is always in his room, so we forced him to come with us," Zarkon said. "As a precaution, we had given him a talisman against anything that comes out of the mouth of those creatures. In the farm, one of the most harmless varieties almost hurt him. We asked him not to pull its tail, and here is the result of his bad behavior."

"Sounds awful," Alfor replied mortified. "I wouldn't know what to do if my baby got hurt. Vanya and I did not want to attend this event for fear to be pulverized by a dragon."

"Understandable. But we trust the wizards in the sanctuary and their skills," Haggar confessed. "Zarkon and I were excited when we were invited to see the new specimen. We even considered adopting one for our child."

Keith hunched his lips in complete disapproval. Over his dead body. He was not having one of those fish with legs near his bedroom. He would have preferred to take a stupid rock instead of holding one of those scaly as a pet. His reaction was of total aberration; in comparison of Lance, whose lips rose with happiness.

"Mister Cat," Lance called. "If you are going to adopt a dragon, could you adopt me too?" asked innocently.

The three melted at the same time, filling Lance with compliments. Vanya, who seemed indifferent to the charms of her heir, dissociated herself from the group and turned to the whispers of the crowd. Her refined ears heard a series of footsteps, moving away in the direction of the central zone.

"The event is about to begin," she said.

Everyone started walking, except for Alfor. "I don't think it's a good idea to bring the kids with us. They could get scared and create a commotion during the presentation. What if we left them at the farm?" he offered softly. "I could send our captain to take care of them."

"Keith is the quiet type," Zarkon said, releasing his son's hand. "But we understand the situation with your little one. If you wish, Keith could keep him company until we finish with one of my soldiers." he squatted in front of Keith. "What do you say? Do you want to play with Lance?"

Keith stepped back.

"He's very shy," Haggar added.

"Why do you not go and say _hello_ , Lance? Maybe your new buddy will feel better if you take the first step." Alfor advised, giving him a little push.

"This is ridiculous," Vanya snorted.

Keith fell silent and hid his face, staring at the floor, in fear of that bubbling sensation that was creeping up his chest. He was short of breath; his temperature rose and he blushed to the tip of his furry ears. He took another step back. In contrast to the Galra's self-conscious reaction, Lance approached him sympathetically. He tried to take off his hood, pointing his lips against the chubby cheek. The Galra reacted with hostility, pushing him and ran to hide behind Zarkon. The Altean fell on his ass.

"No!" Keith protested. "He stinks! He smells like dragon poop!"

Furious, Lance got up and lunged at Keith, struggling wildly and barking, "You're ugly!"

The first bite of the Altean started the fight. Keith screamed in pain as Lance continued chewing on him. In his carelessness, the Galra grabbed him from his mane, pulling out handfuls of hair until he was bald in certain patches, and returned the favor by burying his sharp fangs into his skin. Keith's aggression only increased his anger. Both were rolling on the marble, grunting with a shower of kicks and punches. The guards tried to separate them, but it was in vain. Lance glued himself to Keith like a tick until the kings intervened. The energy they used made the little Altean let go of the Galra, so hard, that Keith was launched full force. He fell like a sack of potatoes over all the desserts, staining his clothes with custard and other jams.

"Look, Papa! He's a pig," said one of the noblemen’s sons, pointing to Keith.

"It's a Galra pig!" Another added.

"Oink!"

Everyone laughed, including Lance. Bloodied Keith sat up, removing the strawberry sauce from his face and fled without ceasing his howls, coming from the top of his lungs. Zarkon wasted no time and ordered one of his best men to go after him. Vanya, struck by the horrors she had just witnessed, hit the back of Lance's head. He stopped laughing and cried a river.

"Look at what you did!" Vanya growled, abysmally embarrassed by the aggressiveness presented.

"My child, what were you thinking?" Alfor mused, wiping Lance’s tears and his little nose from a reddish substance.

"He told me I stink," he replied, sobbing. "I just wanted to be his friend!" Snot slid down his chest, and as he sighed, it continued dripping on his expensive clothes. "I hate the Galra!"

Since that afternoon, neither of them spoke again.


	2. QUIZNAK, IT'S HIM!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 2 - CORRECTED
> 
> By Lizzy

**QUIZNAK, IT’S HIM! I’D TAP THAT ASS.**

 

 

The prince, already in his mid-twenties, pulverized the letter with an intense flare that came out of his fingers. The delicious breeze that came through his window scattered the ashes, losing the remains among the shrubs in the garden. Lance sighed with relief as the ninth invitation from the Galra kingdom disappeared. Yet, a little voice kept reminding him that he would not escape this misfortune so easily. While his conscience continued torturing him, he headed to his bar and filled his glass to the top with freshly squeezed orange juice, for the sole purpose of drowning the voices. After drinking the last drop, he noticed his anxiety had accentuated, climbing up to the tip of his fingers. Despite his ephemeral inner song of victory, he could not ignore that he was THIS close from losing his freedom, if that ridiculous message had reached the hands of his parents. He also did not want to imagine the scandal they would make, if they found out about the evil event the royal couple of the Galra had decided to organize, inviting the princes and nobles of the continent.

In Voltron, when a heir to the throne was at the age of twenty, he will marry a creature of his own accord, very independent of his social rank. The host prince, next sovereign of first command —in case both lovers were of the same gender—, will organize a matchmaking party, in order to find a potential partner who will assume the second command based on their criteria, following the most important and expected tradition shared with all regions. The benefits went from strengthening alliances which had already formed to increase their kingdom's wealth. And Lance did not want to have anything to do with it. Seething with irritation, he shook his head and tried to avoid those thoughts. For a moment, he considered writing a poetic love story, reading his favorite author's research on the balanced diet of dragons, or drawing his dreamlike winged beasts. Just doing any activity that could give him some needed peace of mind.

Suddenly, he remembered with slight annoyance the arrival of a package he had received at dawn. On his desk laid a present with a letter attached to it. Yes, from the Galra. On these nine occasions, he had been bribed with expensive stuff. As mentioned in previous messages -or stupid demands, as he called them-, his presence was fundamental in the palace. With a range of curiosity eating him, he strode to his target and cut the tapes that kept the packaging closed. His eyes glowed with intensity at the excitement of revealing its contents and ripped the rest of the box. Inside, there was a limited-edition action figure: Blue Paladin, one of the emperor's son. Like an infant, Lance shrieked with emotion and sat down to play.

"You cannot destroy him all by yourself! I will protect you!" said Lance, crashing his bluish toy reptile into a lion of the same size. "Bam, Bam!"

The prince got rid of the reptile, throwing him off with a powerful blast that came from the center of his palm. Once the mean dragon was destroyed, he danced with his faithful wooden companions and placed them on his shoulders. After adjusting them, he jumped from his seat, pushing the chair with his calves and started parading in his room in circles, waving to an imaginary audience.

"The legendary steel claw strikes again! Great Lance and the Paladins have done it again!" With a grin from ear to ear, the Altean returned to his seat and ordered his figurines in a row. The collection he had started with his uncle when he was just a child had been completed. Lance looked at them adoringly, fidgeting in his seat in ecstasy.

"Have you finished playing or do I need to attack you with the legendary claw of _That's so fucking embarrassing_?" muttered a voice behind him. An adult of the same race, wearing a light armor kept leaning against the doorframe. "I hope I have not interrupted," the voice snorted, pointing to one of the corners where the desolated dragon remained dead. "That piece of garbage deserved it."

The horror of embarrassment and astonishment in his face made his captain burst out laughing. His pale countenance took on a vivid color as he heard a loud laugh. His cheeks took a reddish hue, ready to explode with anger. Coran always found a way to get on his nerves. There was not a single day when he would just SHUT UP.

"How long have you been standing there like a statue?" Lance demanded. The blush did not dissipate. "Got nothing else to do? Like... eating properly so your bones develop and I can differentiate you from a cockroach?"

"And do you not have _something_ to explain to your parents?" He replied, shrugging at the criticism of his height. "What do you think they will say if I tell them I saw their beloved son sneaking back into his hole like a wild rat?"

Coran arched his eyebrow as he advanced through the messy bedroom. The room was large, ornamented with colored crystals that allowed the remaining rays to color the walls, rustic furniture that had all the facilities and faint carpeted that gave a homely touch. And the most interesting part of his domains was the huge shelf filled with literature about dragons.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lance stammered nervously, running his fingers through his hair.

"Of course," Coran answered without paying attention, picking up a singular essence in the room. "Why should they suspect you, your Highness?"

The way he sniffed a distinguishable scent caused icy drops to slide down Lance's forehead. He hated that his captain was so perceptive. Undoubtedly, it was one of the reasons why they considered him a magnificent guardian. Nothing escaped his hands, much less when the prince committed one of his devilish pranks behind the backs of the royal couple. Lance continued watching him from his seat, trying to control his breathing.

"You're lying just like a prostitute claiming her own virginity," Coran said arrogantly, sitting partially on the table. "If you, at least, want to lie to me, have the modesty to brush the ashes off your shoulder."

Embarrassed, Lance looked away and murmured under his breath with a disappointing grin. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms and controlled his growing eagerness to press his forehead against the hard surface of the table. There was no escape from Coran's claws when his actions had been evident. "Alright! You win." Lance sighed in defeat. "What do you want?"

"Who do you take me for? I'm not that kind of person," said Coran with feigned innocence, fiddling with his orange braid. He rubbed his chin with amused expression and leaned close to his ear. "But since you insist, what if you offer me a whole week in The Tiger's lair? All paid."

"What!" He cried, dragging the seat all the way back to the wall. "Impossible! I cannot finance such luxuries. Do you have any idea how much I had to save up to buy these treasures?" Lance growled with one of his tigers in his hand. "It's taken me years of hard work!"

"Well, you have two options," he warned. "You can allow me to have _the_ vacation of my life or we will tell your parents that you've been avoiding Prince Keith's sweet little notes by burning the mail."

Lance froze. His face went from red to whitish with the same speed as his eyebrows fell. For a moment, it seemed like Lance was going to fall off his chair. Coran could bet that his soul had escaped to another dimension.

"You would _not_ dare, Coran."

"It depends, your Highness," he whispered, winning himself a pleading look from his prince. "I'm kidding!" He added, giving him a heavy pat on the back. "I would also be against arranged marriage. Especially if it's with one of the least favorite suitors... The news makes my stomach twist."

Lance's eyes widened like two china plates. He pushed aside his battalion of little friends and took hold of his captain's thighs, shaking him with a thirst for answers. "What kind of news? Why would people reject him?"

"Let's just say that Keith is not good at socializing. He never leaves his home. In fact, rumor has it that he was traumatized since he was called a Galra pig and..."

Lance cracked up. "That was very funny!" He interrupted, wiping away his tears. "I didn't see his face, but when he got up, he looked like terribly wrapped pork. He was such a fat boy that I would not be surprised if, after all, he got stuck in the doorway of his room."

Coran judged him quietly, while Lance continued chuckling.

"You're truly evil," Coran said with a half-smile, shaking his head. "Back to topic, several suitors have given up. No one wants to risk ending up at the altar with a monster that is going to turn thirty years very soon. A little late with the ceremony, huh? That's why his parents are desperate, looking for men all over the continent. You know what people think of an old bachelor."

"Does Keith have siblings? That issue could be solved if they passed down the crown to one of them. At least they would have someone decent who didn't embarrass their ancestors."

"I'm not sure," Coran replied, staring at him. "What worries me the most is _your_ situation. For a couple of moons, your parents have been urging me to introduce you to someone. You're also turning twenty-six this year."

His comrade was right. It's been many years since he attended one of those matchmaking parties. On one occasion, and the last time of all, Lance accepted the invitation of the Prince of the Dwarves for a romantic evening on the terrace. He did not expect the short-kneed rogue would go overboard, insisting that he can do pirouettes under the sheets. Although both were not feeling the chemistry everyone talks about, the host prince did not seem to mind him and showed him his disgusting wrinkled cucumber. Outraged, Lance tried to escape from his tiny, amorphous fingers to be cornered like a helpless squirrel. But thanks to a knight in shining armor, he could escape unharmed.

"Have you found someone you like?" Coran asked in a brotherly tone.

"Not quite. If I tell you, you'll think I'm an idiot," he whispered, playing with his hands.

"Try me."

His Highness leaned against the back of the chair. "If I had to get married, I suppose I'd like to marry..." He hesitated, covering his mouth. "The same guy who rescued me from having an asshole like an opened jar. And if it is not with him, I would settle for the one and only Kogane."

Coran rolled his eyes and kept his mouth open, appreciating the tastes of his friend, since it was almost impossible to end up with either of them for a husband. Kogane was an anonymous author who sent correspondences about his new findings in the field of dragons. He has not shown any intention of revealing himself for five years. And that masked hero who had helped Lance to escape could be anywhere.

"But you don't even know if they're suitable..."

"It doesn't matter! I would love them equally. And if they were a pair of brutes, I suppose I would not mind submitting," he murmured, slightly flushed.

"We'd better talk to your parents," Coran snorted, unsure about the options. "It is a lot of responsibility for me to find you a husband who is within your means. Accept it! You're not a good match. Just look at yourself. You look like the son of a tramp."

"Coran!" Lance mumbled, banging his fists on the table. He had the insults on the tip of his tongue as well as a growing blaze coming from his palm.

"PRINCE LANCE OF ALTEA!"

That dark desire to turn him into ashes faded when he heard his name. His fists tightened, and without the need to turn to the entrance, he knew immediately that the shouting was coming from his parents, one more annoyed than the other. The doors of his room flung open, crashing against the wall and sent all his documents and personal belongings flying, caused by the strong pressure in which the royal couple appeared. They were holding a golden envelop that immediately indicated that the Galra messengers had sent a tenth copy during his neglect. Dressed in a white suit, his father approached him with pleading eyes, while his mother pulled him from the chair, sending him to fall on his back. The Altean's body slid down the marble steps to the floor of his room.

"You have to go!" Alfor insisted, pushing the letter against his son's face, who was frowning. "The Galra require your presence and..."

"As many others, dad," he growled, folding his arms without the slightest intention of standing up to continue that silly argument, taking the paper off his face with a blow. "I'm not going."

Sooner or later, the invitation he had been hiding would come into the hands of his family. The first time it arrived was two months ago. Lance was waiting for a report from Kogane, and by coincidence, ended up prying a letter, especially dedicated to the royal family from the Galra kingdom. When he found it, he almost fainted. It was one of _those_ invitations.

"You must go, young man!" Vanya shrieked, adjusting her gown so that her sleeve did not get in the way of picking up her rebellious son from the floor. "You've been hiding the notifications from us for a long time and you have the nerve to talk back?!"

"You're embarrassing us," Alfor sobbed.

"For the love of Altea!" exclaimed Lance, raising his arms and shaking them uncontrollably. "What difference would there be if I didn't go? I don't even know him! That prince must be damned ugly."

"Of course, you know the Galra pig!" Coran yelled, earning the harsh look of the couple and a pleasant laugh of his prince. "My bad," he said, bowing.

"Coran's right, Dad," he grumbled. "What if he's really ugly? I refuse marrying a pig that will _oink, oink_ at me during our honeymoon. Nobody knows how he looks. Is that not weird enough?"

The captain tried to suppress his laughter, retiring immediately.

"He's not a pig!" Vanya roared. "More respect for those who are not present!"

Alfor sighed and looked sympathetically at his son. Before Vanya gave him another hit in the back of his head, Alfor stopped her on the spot and turned to Lance. He slipped his arm around the shoulders of an adult, not that little boy who was once the size of a paper lantern, and led him to the edge of the bed, sitting next to him. The prince struck the sole of his shoe, waiting for the sermon to finish as soon as possible to continue with his chores. With a snap of fingers, the silk sheets came alive, tangled between his legs and sent him kissing the floor.

"Vanya, darling!" Alfor snapped, putting his hands on his hips. "You can punish him however you want, but don't harm his perfect face. Your punishment was not necessary, dearest! It's the only good thing he has at his age!"

Irritated by his mother's abuse, Lance did not know whether to take it as an offense or a compliment. His wife shrugged at how noisy her husband was being and remained speechless, wishing Alfor knew how to control their son. With so many years as a progenitor, she learned that brute force did not work with that stupid boy and that he preferred Alfor's subtlety. Always spoiling him, always being more lenient than her. One day, that consent will cause his own son to suffer during his adversities as a ruler.

"I know perfectly well you dislike the idea of going through what happened during your stay with the Prince of the Dwarves, but we promise you the Galra are different. They are our friends and we share territory," Alfor explained fondly, rubbing Lance’s back. "We promise they will not do anything to you. You'll be fine. I know you will not marry..."

"A cocky fool who sends out stupid invitations in order to have a catalog of spouses. I will marry someone decent. I know they tried to deflower me, but that's not the problem. I think it's a waste of time." Lance finished the sentence, repeating the phrase in which he always defended his ideals about marriage. "If possible, I would marry Kogane or my sweet knight. It is a pity that I never saw him again, no matter how much we looked for him throughout the kingdom."

"Kogane?" Alfor asked curiously, blinking rapidly.

"He's his favorite author. An alleged Galra who also buries himself in shrines for countless days," Vanya snorted.

"Wait a minute!" Lance raised his hand to stop Alfor at the precise moment. "You barely care when I'm getting married because I still have... about four years to do so. What are you planning? We also received an invitation last year from the prince of the wolves and you didn't make a fuss."

One of the most powerful kingdoms in the south sent a letter, but when he refused to attend, his parents continued having supper, as if he had said nothing at all. Seeing themselves against the sword and the wall, Alfor looked at his partner as if waiting for her to take charge of the conversation and save them from possible questions.

"As your father said, the Galra are our friends and we do not plan on destroying our alliance. To avoid making us look like a pair of irresponsible ones, you'll have to go," Vanya sentenced. "Whether you like it or not."

"I refuse to go, hag."

"Please, come on. The truth is we're worried about you, "Alfor said, looking at his wife. Vanya nodded, giving him permission to share what they had been arguing for a long time. "We think maybe you should spend a vacation, relaxing in another nation because you have been working without rest. You go out, you have fun in the village, but you have no friends other than Coran. You don't invite anyone to the palace! At least make an appearance and return to Altea. We are also worried about the situation with the Galra and their son. They're such good people... They do not deserve that misfortune."

"Why do I _need_ a friend when I have dragons?" Both, Vanya and Lance said at the same time, one mimicking the other.

"That's the problem!" Alfor replied. Alfor collapsed on the bed with a tired expression. If there were princes who ended up with a harem of cats, there was a prince in Altea who had a harem of dragons and would end up like an old and unwanted bachelor. Without a husband and without true friends. This was a very dark future for the family and the possible disruption of royal descent. They even considered marrying him to a commoner, but Lance always gave up on the romantic advances. He was running away from compromises. The defiant Altean man refused.

"Anyway, if I considered it, I could not miss work."

"We talked to the master magician of the sanctuary and he told us that there was no problem if you were absent for several months. On the contrary, you would be giving the apprentices an opportunity to develop their abilities," Vanya countered, her lips widening in an arrogant smile.

"You seem to have thought of everything," Lance hissed, indignant at the measures his mother had taken.

"You're a naughty brat. Let's hope your visit transforms you or does a miracle that your father and I want to see," remarked the queen, heading to the rack of drinks to serve herself a strong liqueur. "You can be as old as you are, but to us you're just a fucking kid."

The prince was about to protest again, dazzled by the criticism. Vanya turned around with a bottle to the top and lifted it, pouring the contents over a glass. "If you get bored, there's a library where they have the most exceptional books about your dumb beasts. And a little bird informed me that Kogane will also make a presence in the fortified city of the Galra. He will pass by our palace. If you hurry, you may run into him," Vanya added cunningly, bringing the drink to her lips. She took a sip and continued, "Besides, the Galra mentioned that they will be more than happy to give you a personal interview with that stranger. Of course, it will only happen if you behave and attend the party. How nice of them!"

Lance's eyes glittered like two precious stones, and a smile spread across his face. "Are you telling the truth, Mommy?"

"Now you treat me with respect, little shit?"

It was the moment he had waited for. Lance ignored her comment and shook her to speak, reciting the titles of countless books he had wanted to read, hopeful that the Galra would have them well guarded. Vanya, eager to get rid of her annoying son, nodded to all his questions. She told him the wonders he could find without even knowing if there was a library or not, and continued lying to him until Lance himself took the clothes from his closet and stuffed his suitcase with them. His euphoria reached the skies when he could not contain the mad desire to engage in a conversation with Kogane. Where would they start? Diet, breeding, use of scales? There were so many questions. His small heart jumped as he imagined the origin of a new friendship, a possible relationship and finally, a happy marriage. What will his face look like? Will he be a handsome Galra? Will they have a huge chemistry the first time they see each other?

"I need to hurry!" exclaimed Lance, picking up the paper from the floor. "Bye!"

The Altean left his room, running down the halls in search of Coran. They could still hear his footsteps, from far away. Alfor sighed heavily and laid on his heir's bed. "That was terrible."

"Terrible, but it worked," Vanya said with a mischievous grin. "Admit it, the boy has to live a little. He has always been in Altea... He needs to see the world and forget about creatures he cannot fuck. The funniest thing would be the face he will make, when he meets the author he has been obsessing all over. It's gonna be priceless."

"Dear, you can act like a witch sometimes..."

Vanya let go of the glass with a few drops of alcohol, listening to it break and scatter all over the carpeting. She brought her palm to her husband's chest, pushing it gently over the bed as she tried to sit up and kissed him. Alfor felt the intoxicating taste on her lover's lips and allowed her to enter his mouth, taking his tongue to explore every corner of it. "Your witch."

Alfor caressed her torso, removing her dress and exposing her bare chest. He struck her lips in another wild kiss that would leave them breathless. Eager to make love to him in another bed that was not her own, Vanya yanked his clothes off and saw that a particular length was happy to see her. Her husband's erection was one of the things she enjoyed most throughout her life. Gently, she brought her lips to the tip and gave it a kiss.

"My beloved Alfor _._ "

With a snap, the doors closed. While the pair entertained themselves like two young lovers, Lance crossed the royal arch in the company of his captain. With all the luggage stacked like a tower, they waited for the chariot with the red Galra insignia to appear. Before dusk, the guards blocked the way when they saw it in the distance. The horses stopped abruptly, raising their hooves.

"I am Lance, and we need to board this carriage, good sir," he greeted with the emblematic letter from the Galra. "I am on my way to their kingdom at the request of the royal couple."

The driver adjusted the glasses, recognizing the stamp and signature of the family he had served since he had memory. He nodded and told them where to put their belongings. Soldiers placed the luggage in the back and returned to their original two-row formation.

"I'm nervous," Lance whispered, wiping his sweat with his sleeves.

"You'll be fine," Coran assured. "Smile, do not talk nonsense and act like a real heir."

Lance stopped, adjusting the neckline of his shirt. He combed his hair as best he could, licked his lips in a limp attempt to moisten them, and took a deep breath. "How do I look?"

"Ready to blow his... crotch?" Coran offered.

"What? Why would I...? I'm the one who should be nervous, not you."

"His mind! I meant his mind." Coran stepped forward, grabbing the handle and opened the door. Lance began climbing up the metal steps with his knees trembling, and entered the small compartment.

"Are you the one who just kidnapped me?" A male voice asked.

Lance looked up, meeting two shimmering yellowish eyes. In front of him, a young dark-haired Galra was resting his chin on his palm. It did not matter if that man was glaring at him, he was too beautiful for this world. His fine features like those of a doll made his heart race and his hands sweat. His cheeks were painted a faint pink.

"And? Are you going to keep staring at me until tomorrow?" The Galra added irritably.

The door closed behind them. Coran sat next to the driver.

"Is it you? Are you really Kogane?" He asked, captivated by his beauty and the countless number of books about dragons that laid scattered.

The Galra did not answer. Someone whistled and the horses began to trot, sending Lance into the lap of the man. The Altean apologized repeatedly when he sat up, sticking to the other end. The unknown man looked at him coldly, shaking the fabric of his pants. During the journey, they watched the moon reach the top, accompanying the stars in the sky. The silence had been uncomfortable since his arrival. Honestly, Lance did not imagine that their meeting was such a disappointing one. Determined not to make matters worse, he settled down very close to the other window and tried to get some sleep.

"What makes you think I'm Kogane?" Asked the Galra, turning to Lance.

The urge to take a nap had vanished. Lance recoiled with his elbows, rising from his position. The Galra was still waiting for an answer.

"Kogane is an author who loves dragons," he said with conviction. "You have a lot of information about them." He pointed to the pile of notes. "No one has seen him, but many factors indicate that it is you."

The Galra only offered him a mocking grin, shrugged, and averted his gaze.

 


	3. BUT I DON'T HATE YOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 3 - CORRECTED
> 
> By Lizzy

**BUT I DON’T HATE YOU. I SWEAR!**

 

 

On the outskirts of the Altean kingdom, the extensive paddy fields were dwindling to be replaced by thick vegetation with an incredible variety of trees that were found on the border with the kingdom of Galra. That space was known as ‘The Celeste Valley’, which was considered a sacred zone and protected by both cultures to house the majority of herbs with the rarest curative properties. Unfortunately, it also possessed the most poisonous ones. Despite it being the shortest way to reach Galra lands, it had not been suitable to go in large caravans because of its slopes and narrow paths that could endanger merchants' goods. And the villagers who knew of the adversities, preferred to take different routes.

Lance slammed himself against the window, staining the glass with the palm of his hands. He was stunned by the scene that greeted him at dawn. Compared to his home, which was submerged in crystalline water through the vast rice fields, the valley possessed an incomparable beauty. He never imagined that there were flowers of the least unthinkable colors. Leaving Altea had not been such a bad idea after all. While the chariot remained parked very close to a bridge, Lance stared at the panorama. There was a waterfall, which divided two small mountains and at their foot was a little hut, surrounded by a cozy atmosphere. A thin layer of smoke flowed eastward from the chimney and near a tiny wooden fence, a pair of peasants played with a race of dragons, that was characterized by being very hairy and tiny. Lance removed a fine magic brush from his bag and scribbled what he saw, drawing an exact replica of the scene.

"What do you think of it?" Lance asked, pleased with the image. He held it from the sides and showed it to his companion. "Do you think I should frame it and hang it in my room?"

Captain Coran woke up from his long sleep and rubbed his eyes with his leather gloves when he heard Lance’s voice. Without waiting for him to be wide awake, Lance pushed it until the rim hit the metal of his chest. Coran adjusted his armor, picking himself up from the seat to observe the work of art and greeted it with his mouth open, yawning like a beast after consuming a big meal. Altea's brushes had always been some of the best. The gradient of the colors, the versatility it offered, making the strokes so precise; it displayed its high-quality origin. It was not only the material the brushes were made of, which were scales of the most powerful dragons, it was also the user, who offered his magic, to give his creations life. Coran hated to admit it, but the young man he had to babysit during his entire stay in the Galra kingdom was a very exceptional Altean. _It's beautiful_ , Coran thought.

"Are you going to use your talent to catch Keith's attention?" asked Coran in a mischievous tone. "It would be hilarious if he asked you for a portrait. Naked."

"Gross!" Lance frowned. "I don't want to waste sheets drawing a whale because I would need to use them all."

They both laughed.

"Why did you agree to come? I thought you would never go to one of these parties again when that midget prince had you cornered in his bedroom," said Coran with a mocking smile, stretching it at the sudden expression of surprise of his prince. "Are not you afraid that it will happen again? Keith will want to eat you, and not in a sexual way."

"I'm not twenty anymore. That happened long ago and I think I can defend myself now," Lance replied, taking his illustration back and admired it uncomfortably by the change of subject. "My only interest is to read those volumes about dragons and have a conversation with Kogane. It is not up to me who this prince chooses to be his next victim."

"You could put it in the dining room. It matches the decoration," Coran finally answered. He paused, bent down to rummage in his cloth bag and took out a loaf of bread. "Can you imagine that after so much fuss, Keith asks you to marry him? It would be pretty funny if the situation were to unfold that way. You guys would end up having piglets instead of children." The captain's laughter became a shrill one. He slapped his thigh at the thought. No one in his right mind would agree to seal his fate with his highness. In fact, he had considered that he possessed the beauty of a rough diamond; and hardly anyone would appreciate the glow that existed under that thick layer of coal. Lance grimaced at the annoying laughter and extended his arm to receive a reward in return. Coran stopped chuckling and frowned a little at the sight. He offered half of his lunch reluctantly and took the rest to his lips. "Do you have any idea how he looks now?" He continued curiously, opening the window so he could inhale the delicious air of the valley. The exquisite scent tickled his nose. "According to some servants, it is said that he does not look like his parents."

"But they kind of look the same. They're purple, right? And if he does not look like them, he must be uglier than an ogre's ass. The royal couple always comes to visit my parents and they are good-looking." Lance added, leaning on the arm of the seat to feel the pleasant summer breeze. "I doubt it can compare with Kogane's beauty. He takes your breath away."

"Speaking of Kogane, was it really him? This morning I saw him descend from the carriage and I was speechless. I thought he was one of the legendary sons of the emperor," said Coran, shifting his seat to sit beside his prince. "I cannot deny that Kogane is the reincarnation of perfection. He's too handsome to be real."

Lance wrinkled his nose instantly and murmured, "I tried to have a conversation with him at night and he didn't seem interested. I know he's Kogane and I want him to admit it himself. He had hundreds of notes about dragons. The most obvious evidence was when he dropped a letter that had the same signature. We were silent when he realized that I noticed."

"Maybe he communicates _with_ Kogane?"

"Impossible. I will not give up until I get answers!"

The two friends continued talking, having a pleasant meeting after being separated for a couple of hours. Meanwhile, under the bridge, a long figure climbed the rustic stone steps. A young Galra wore a wine robe, simple dark tight trousers and boots that matched the long cape that covered him to the ankles. With a package in hand, Kogane headed in the direction of Galra's royal chariot. Leaving behind the hut, he pulled back his hood and passed the vehicle. His driver jumped down and bowed.

"Good morning. I'm terribly sorry if you had to go and get your own breakfast," he said affectionately, placing his knees on the lawn.

Silence was his only answer. Kogane passed by until he was near the carriage door and turned slowly to his servant. In a contemptuous tone, he warned him, "The uselessness of serfdom does not cease to amaze me. If I want something, I should do it myself. If you want to continue with your legs glued to your body, I recommend not to bow when we are outside the castle. I've repeated myself several times, understood? Good."

"I'm sorry, your H... Lord Kogane," he corrected quickly, embarrassed.

The carriage door was slammed open from the other side, almost impacting Kogane's face. Both friends let out a low scream when they saw him back. Coran released the handle and apologized repeatedly, descending clumsily when his eyes met the annihilating orbs of the Galra. The captain excused himself, running to the front like a defenseless bunny. Kogane ignored Lance's plea and closed the door behind them. The driver whistled immediately.

"If you want to have breakfast, at least do it outside," Kogane said coldly, watching the crumbs scattered on his seat. He patted the leather. "It's disgusting. It's the same attitude a pig has. Eats and lives in the mud, wallowing as if there were no tomorrow."

"We both know that the only pig is Prince Keith," Lance replied, laughing painfully at the tense mood.

Kogane seemed overwhelmed by the comment, hiding his true expression as he turned his head toward the window. The joke was not received the way the Altean had thought. The intent to relieve the stressful mood seemed to vanish as a package in the Galra's arms caught his interest. A piece of paper hung with a message:

**«To Kogane»**

"I knew it! You're Kogane!" Lance shouted, pointing it. "You cannot deny it this time!"

"I never denied it in the first place, moron," said Kogane, turning to him with a sardonic laugh. "But, since you seem very happy to have made the most obvious discovery since the magicians learned that dragons have scales and that pigs don't fly, congratulations. What do you want as a reward? An Active Imbecile Medal?"

"You don't have to be so rude," he said. "I just wanted to tell you that I really admire what you do and I thought we could exchange notes. I have been working in the sanctuary for several years, I am passionate about dragons and I am doing some research that could change the world."

Kogane rolled his eyes. "Please," the Galra told him with utter disinterest, "I would love to hear more about your plans, your future life, if I were like the Kogane you pictured. And I'm sorry I have to be the one to take a dump on your ridiculous bubble, but I'm not interested. All I want is to eat this delicious creation and cease my hunger. Now, do me the favor and shut up."

At once, Lance was silent, not knowing what else to say. His dreams faded and he had no control over them. No matter how badly he had hurt the Altean's feelings, Kogane shrugged it off. He grabbed a tray from one of the lower compartments and laid it on his lap to unfold the dome-shaped package. Tearing the paper, the Galra's eyes shone and began to salivate. The soft bread emitted a scent of vanilla and had candied red fruits that shone like rubies as green balls that looked like emeralds. With his claws, he broke a portion of the bun and brought it to his lips, eating it bit by bit.

"What is that?" Lance asked, looking at him curiously.

With his cheeks full, Kogane passed the ball in his throat. "It's a panettone. The lady who lives in that hut knows how to make the best. From time to time I come here to have them with a cup of hot chocolate. With a few drops of blood would do. I don't know how she does it. But it has the perfect number of drops," he replied, devouring the rest.

"We don't eat many sweets in Altea. Most of the food is salty. Not that I would complain, I love salty dishes." Lance admitted contentedly, relaxing at sudden change of mood of the Galra. "Although I am a prince, the best food can be found in town. I always go to a traditional restaurant during the weekends in the most central area where you get gigantic pork ribs. You would think they are dragon's ribs!"

The silence was sudden. Kogane nodded, wiping the corner of his lips with one of his embroidered napkins. After finishing with his snack, he put the remains in the same bag and under his feet. "And what brings you to the kingdom of the Galra?" asked Kogane, softening his hostile gaze. "To my misfortune, I have an event to attend with many guests. I wanted to escape to one of the furthest sanctuaries, very close to the borders that your kingdom shares with the wolves. Unfortunately, I got a letter from the royal couple, requiring my presence with great urgency."

"So did I!" shrieked Lance, clapping at the coincidence. "For several months, I have been bribed with expensive toys. They want me to marry their son. An ugly bachelor who seems to be fatter than a whale. Can you believe it? When I was a child, he looked like a stuffed potato, and now that he has grown up, he must be an amorphous potato. He is not good enough for the greatest Altean prince, which is me, of course.” Lance laughed again. "I can imagine his face! Similar to a pork's butt."

"You mean Prince Keith?" The Galra questioned. "What makes you think he's fat? I was an obese child because I had pretty bad anxiety issues. I ate tons of panettoni. After being bullied by the nobles, I decided to make a rigorous diet and exercised."

"Yes, him!" Lance exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "No way! You're lying. The famous Kogane was a plump kid... It does not matter either because you must have been a very cute one, with chubby cheeks ready to pinch. I would have slapped those brats for picking on you. It is not good to make fun of overweight people."

"Does it not make you think that, perhaps, Keith might have done the same thing and has an athletic body that you're going to regret making fun of when you see him? Also, if you have been invited to the party, should you not be interested in his personality too? You never know. You could be compatible." Kogane offered, shrugging.

"Not in a million years! Not that the personality is the least important factor. I think everything goes through the eyes first. And knowing the ridiculous culture of the Galra and their pride that flies over the skies, they would tell you in the worst way that only ugly people think that personality is above all things. I think you also need to be physically attracted to him," said Lance. "I doubt we get along. We had a fight that started with a stupid dispute. His attitude also stinks. The name Keith should mean Galra feces."

With an indecipherable look, Kogane seemed quite uncomfortable, and turned his back without answering. Lance knew immediately that he had crossed the line and did not insist any further. The Altean sighed deeply and tried not to think about it. To know that he would have to go through a series of obstacles to return to Altea made him dizzy. Lance leaned his head back on the padded backrest and remained still, waiting quietly for an answer. By then, the sun had already risen and the powerful rays illuminated the rocky road. The wheels of the chariot vibrated every time they hit a branch or mound of pebbles. Much later, Kogane turned to Lance with an empty expression. "Do you hate him so much? Or do you hate the Galra only?" he inquired.

"What! What are you implying? No, no! I don't hate your people." Lance replied, straightening himself alarmed. "That would be like hating you and I don't hate you. On the contrary, you are a strange guy, and I find that somewhat attractive as hell." he stammered, playing with his hands and glancing at him. "Well... I've read your articles since you started publishing them and you always leave me wanting to know more. I've never had such a big interest in a Galra."

An "O" formed in the Galra's lips as he raised an eyebrow, still staring at Lance. The Altean felt the intensity of his gaze and could not contain the blush spreading across his cheeks. Kogane was too handsome, it hurt him. If he knew his parents, he would love to shake hands and congratulate them on the splendid work. Looking up, he met Kogane's eyes.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Lance asked timidly.

To his discomfort, Kogane shifted seats and sat down beside him, bumping his shoulders with his. The Altean tried to control himself at the sudden proximity, and those fleshy lips approaching dangerously. Lance stepped back, sticking to the corner and held his breath as Kogane invaded his space. "Are your eyes naturally blue? They have shades of turquoise. Quite a rarity," said Kogane randomly.

"T-thanks." Lance stammered, swallowing hard. "Yes, they are like this thanks to the genes of my ancestors. Are yours also so bright and yellow? Like the stars." he added, imitating him perfectly, without minding the sensual tension the Galra had created.

Kogane smiled, "Yes."

Lance turned his gaze to his mouth. "That's so cool! The Galra have big fangs just like wolves. Maybe even larger!" Lance gripped the other’s chin brusquely.

"Possibly." Kogane had wanted to close his mouth, waving his arms in protest with a confused expression. He didn't expect to be handled like a pet. He had let his guard down. Lance could not understand the list of insults that the Galra dedicated him while mumbling, and continued examining him. With his forefinger, he pressed the long and sharp canine.

"They're a bit smaller, actually," said Lance.

" _Do not make me bite you,_ " warned Kogane almost unintelligible, keeping his mouth open in order to avoid hurting him. A thin thread of saliva fell between them.

The warning had been effective when Lance recoiled. The Altean knew of several enchantments and spells, but he had no idea if it was possible to grow his fingers back in the event of a mutilation of a hungry Galra.

"Can you eat with those? Do you suck blood like vampires? I mean, sucking people's blood when you go for the neck, if you do..."

It was the first time Kogane had laughed. He shook his head. "That's retarded. The Galra are similar to a vast of creatures with furry ears, except that we possess tremendous strength. I suppose my teeth give the impression we are like vampires, in a way. You're not totally wrong though. Our ancestors used to do that. Formerly, they took the blood of their enemies when they defeated them. It is not necessary for our diet, but we continue taking it in a cultural way." He confessed, shrugging at the obviousness of the matter. Stupid questions entertained him.

"So your ancestors' fangs used to be bigger and more lethal?"

Suddenly, Kogane twisted a perverse grin that became even more perverted when Lance was alerted of his advances. "Who knows?" He purred sensually. "Do you want me to mark you and find out?"

"No! It is not necessary!" Lance replied in a hurry, nervously, taking both palms over his neck to protect himself. When he stepped back, he bumped his back against the door and accidentally opened it.

With a strong pull and good reflexes, Kogane caught him, held him by the wrists and returned him inside, sitting him on his lap. Cautiously, he reached out and closed the door, securing it this time. Lance sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against the Galra's chest, who wrapped his arms around him protectively. The Altean almost fell on one of the many slopes of the valley. His heart kept beating fast, not only because of the possible misfortune, but also because of the physical contact with Kogane. His nose could distinguish a mahogany fragrance with different herbs that made him melt in his arms.

"That was close..." Kogane muttered, releasing him. "Be more careful. I don't want to imagine the reprimand that I would get from the royal couple if one of the suitors of his son ended up injured and... "

Lance had taken him by the chin, bringing his lips close to the Galra's. He tried to back away, but the Altean took his jaw and inserted his thumb between his lips.

"Your teeth remind me of a puppy's fangs. My grandfather had a puppy that had them that thin. He said that they were just as useless as the teeth of a rodent." Lance went on, absorbed. "Kogane!" He cried.

Not very satisfied by the comparison, Kogane closed his mouth, catching him. Fortunately, the Galra didn't bite off his thumb. It was much worse than it made him reconsider changing underwear when the soft texture of the Galra's tongue brushed against his skin. The atmosphere became hot, leaving the Altean breathless, without the chance of articulating any words. Kogane kept licking the Altean's finger slowly, sucking it with lust. A bubbling sensation was stirring within the prince. He couldn't understand what it was, but it felt good. So good, he felt his length growing in his pants.

"Please..." Lance whined, his face completely red.

The only answer the Galra gave him was arching an eyebrow, as if to say, " _Please, what?_ " Lance could not even pronounce his name. The sensation increased as Kogane sucked him harder. Suddenly the Altean could no longer resist, and a thick stream of blood shot from his nostrils.

The prince's haemorrhage had caused them to stop by one of those street vendors carrying small sacks on their backs. After exchanging a couple of coins for a meal, a loose tunic and a cotton sachet, they continued their way. It had been a couple of hours since the incident and they were still resting, Kogane with a dragon themed book in hand. Lance kept staring at him, who occasionally laughed shamelessly as the Altean almost lost consciousness during his embarrassing event.

"Surely a mare's period does not have as much flow as your nose, Your highness." Kogane said, chuckling. The comparisons had gone on since they boarded the carriage again.

"Shut up! Enough! I already feel humiliated and insulted by the immorality of your acts so you can tell me later that it was a harmless joke. Trust me. It was pretty offensive." Lance barked.

"Don't raise your voice or those vaginal plugs are going to come out of your nose." The Galra added, laughing harder as he passed the sheet of his book. "Sorry. I meant cotton."

"It's not funny!" Lance growled, hiding his face behind his own book. "I thought I would die!"

"On average, you have less than one bucket of blood in your body. A little bit of blood won't kill you. You're exaggerating," he replied, closing his book to stack it next to the others lying on the floor. "If you want to worry about something more important, I would devote myself to the ‘Drinking Milk’ sect to grow a little. When I first saw you, I thought you were a dwarf. Now, that's alarming."

Lance's mouth dropped in anger and brought one of his hands to his chest. The desire to throw his book over Kogane's head seemed quite tempting. A single blow and he would silence him. "Just because you're taller than me..." Lance huffed, crossing his arms. "How tall are you?"

"And at what point did this become an interrogation?" He snorted. "Since the last time I measured myself, I remember that I was high enough to attract suitors. Does the little prince have a height complex? It is not so bad that you are mistaken for a gnome though. I've heard that dead gnomes decorate the gardens perfectly."

Lance frowned. "Only because you're a couple of inches taller than me," he muttered, trying to control his urge to give him a couple of slaps.

"Yes, but if you marry a dwarf, you would be the ideal match. And together, you could decorate your garden with your own short kneed babies. Would you not like it?" Kogane insisted with a wry grin.

"No thanks. I hate everything about dwarves. I was invited by the prince himself and almost got raped. He is a perverted bastard. Luckily, someone saved me," Lance added, moving closer to the Galra. "That night, he wanted to take my virginity. Just as he was about to remove my shirt, the door fell on him as if by magic. A hooded man stood on it and..."

Kogane's orbs took on a strange glow, his gaze becoming very curious. "A hooded man?"

The Altean nodded and continued, "They had invited all the princes of our generation. And I think Keith was also there, but I didn't see him. He made an act of presence and left immediately, according to the guards," said Lance, rubbing his chin. "That man saved me. I tried to stop him to know who he was, but I never saw him again. Some sources indicate that he is a Galra." He rummaged in one of his pockets and pulled out a red ribbon. "This is the only thing he left behind."

Kogane had remained as stiff as a statue. He stared at Lance with a face full of confusion and concern. "I wonder..."

"What did you say? I could not hear you," said Lance.

Before he could answer, the chariot stopped unexpectedly and the candle lights were extinguished by a heavy blizzard. Lance fell into Kogane's lap and tried to rise with difficulty. The darkness of the night had wrapped them in an adventure when they heard a scream in the middle of the valley.

 


	4. DID YOU JUST…?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 4 - CORRECTED
> 
> By Lizzy

**DID YOU JUST…?! WOAH. DO IT AGAIN!**

 

 

Kogane does not remember when it was the last time he was so close to someone. In fact, he had never allowed another individual to lay down on him as the Altean prince himself was doing. Clinging to his cloak, his nails embedded in the cloth. His stomach twisted from having Lance in his arms, and the exotic fragrance that came from his clothes. Kogane could not articulate his displeasure, but he really hated this closeness.

"Stay here," he said, pulling away from Lance. "I'll go and check what's going on outside."

Lance reached for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him gently, gaining his attention. Part of him did not want Kogane to leave him inside and expose his life to the unknown. Kogane stood still, staring at him in silence with an indescribable gaze that denoted an unspoken irritability or the same fear as his companion. Before leaving, the guards' comments had reached his ears. It was said that this road proved to be difficult and too dangerous at night, not only because of the poison ivy and deep slopes but also, because they housed very versatile thieves, who attacked when the caravans seemed to contain treasures. And if a royal chariot were to cross their path, they would be lucky. Any ruffian would set his eyes on one, hoping to find greater goods or nobles to satisfy his carnal desires.

"Be careful," Lance begged, allowing him to leave. Kogane nodded, turning to the entrance.

The horses had stopped in the middle of the road, agitated by the unexpected obstacle. The captain, along with the driver, took the reins firmly, reassuring the steeds. Their feet returned to the ground, stabilizing their gait. Coran sighed relieved. If he had not sensed their presence a few paces away, it is quite possible that an accident would have occurred.

"Should we let them know?" Coran asked the driver.

The door was slammed open as it struck the carriage, answering their uneasiness. Kogane came down, looking very confused at the abrupt braking. He circled the vehicle and headed to the front of it.

"Why did we stop?" He asked, irritated. "I hope you have a good explanation."

Another howl surprised them. Kogane looked away from both servants and turned to two silhouettes. A couple lay on the grass with the woman resting on her husband's lap. She was breathing hard, still babbling unintelligible things. Thick beads of sweat slid down her face, straying into the cleavage of her dress. While the human seemed to be delirious, a middle-aged elf dressed in rags was rubbing her bulging belly and trying to comfort her with tender caresses. The future mother could not stop sobbing.

"Don't worry, my love. Everything's going to be fine," he pleaded, kissing her dirty fingers.

Kogane remained immutable at the scene, narrowing his eyes. Of all the situations that went through his mind, it had to be the worst of them all. It could have been another creature, one less aggravating to begin with. The elf raised his emaciated face, watching him warily. Kogane looked away from the unbearable sight and opened his mouth, determined to issue a withdrawal order.

"What's going on here?" The voice came from behind the Galra.

Lance marched toward them in a hurry. Standing next to Kogane, he noticed the seriousness of the matter and the reason the woman was crying. He covered his mouth with his hands and approached them, running.

The woman lost consciousness repeatedly, imploring in a foreign language. Lance kneeled down beside her, taking her other hand. He examined her carefully, beginning with her pulse. He felt her writhing in agony and rubbed her back and her abdomen. Through the length of his legs, under the skirt, he distinguished a particular essence. And on the lawn, a crystalline liquid shone in the light, leaving a trail that would lead him to his femininity.

"We must get them to the palace immediately!" exclaimed the prince.

Kogane, who was with his arms crossed, wrinkled his nose at the thought. The space of the carriage was narrow enough when he was alone, and with Lance, it was suffocating. To have to imagine that there would have to be four in one place. Correction. Four adults and a blood-stained offspring of one of the most despicable creatures on the face of the planet was not amusing. His pointy ears, small green eyes like a pepper. Why could it not be a damn hen? Kogane did not hide his pinched expression or the way he rubbed his forehead as if he wanted to chase away a migraine.

"Going back home will take the entire journey," Kogane replied sharply.

"I did not mean Altea. We are close to Galra. We should take them to Keith. He will be able to take care of them properly," Lance ventured to say, considering the distance that had to be traveled.

Kogane's face darkened as he grinded his teeth. He pressed his fist against his mouth and declared, "It's not a good idea."

"Why not? Keith is a prince and his absolute responsibility is to help them. This woman is in labor and needs the assistance of a physicist. We both know they cannot afford it. We should send them right away and..."

"Just because," he growled, interrupting him. "We should not bother him. Especially with a couple like them. He does not like having strangers in his kingdom... Especially elves and their descendants. It's better if we continue and send another carriage to take them to the nearest town."

Lance looked at him, demonstrating how penetrating his gaze could become. With an equally stiff posture, he nodded, but with an unspoken oppression. He bit his tongue and waited quietly to cool down.

"You speak as if you knew him perfectly," he snorted uncomfortably. "I admire what you do, Kogane, but I am a prince and I will do what I have to do. They are my priority now, whether what you say about Keith is true or simple rumors. Anyway, I will send them under my mandate. If he does not want to receive them, we will have serious problems because no prince can deign to call himself one if he will ignore his people."

Kogane fell silent, sighing heavily. He twisted his lips, suppressing the sermon on the tip of his tongue, and nodded. "As you wish, your Highness."

Lance softened the hostility of his gestures, pleased. He turned to the couple and explained what would happen. The elf was eternally grateful, kissing his hands and each of his fingers. The Altean also shared a few tips while they held her very gently.

"Coran, please, open the carriage and help me with her legs," said Lance.

The captain set out to help him by carrying out the orders. The couple was accommodated, and the group saw themselves in a pinch: there was no more space. The couple had occupied both seats so that the contractions were not so painful, despite their rapid frequency. Lance took into account that there was only one option.

"Go, now," he said, closing the door.

"You must be out of your mind if you think I'm leaving you in the dark. There are monsters lurking around as well as possible thugs, venomous plants that would devour your guts and disgusting bugs," the captain replied, bringing both hands to his hips. "Do you have any idea what kind of punishment your parents would give me if they found out? And in the worst-case scenario, if something happened to you."

"I know something can happen to us, but their safety..."

"Your safety is more important, Lance. Everyone gives birth every day. A natural childbirth can be learned from bad ones," he protested. "I cannot leave without you. I just can't. You are my prince, my stupid protégé, the child I must care of until you get married. Until you have your children, be happy and die in bed with Keith."

"It sounded okay until the last bit..." he murmured with a half-smile. "Just go. Kogane and I will be fine. I promise. We can wait until dawn. The path is short."

Coran's desperation deepened. Only once did they separate and proved to be one of the most chaotic days of all. And if it happened again, he would go insane. Coran patted his boot against the ground, sweating, looking at both ends nervously.

"I'll be with him," Kogane said. "I will watch over his well-being in the meantime. If you hurry, we will end this faster and pretend that nothing has ever happened."

Coran did not seem convinced, drumming his fingers on his belt. "I doubt I can do that. I've protected the prince for many years. I remember when he still did not know how to wipe his tail. He was a baby. I always went after him to dress him," he muttered.

"Coran," Lance called, putting his hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Nothing will happen to us. We will light a fire and rest until your return. They will not rebuke you for doing the right thing in my name. Rest assured, I'll be here."

The captain squeezed Lance's hands. "You're hopeless. You are more stubborn than a mule."

"You know me well enough."

"I'll be right back, your Highness."

With a brotherly kiss on the forehead, he said goodbye to his prince. The whip hit the skin of the horses, and a neigh was heard in the middle of the forest. They started their way in a wild trot, being swallowed by darkness at the end of the road.

"Keith will not like it," Kogane whispered, resting in the shade of a tree.

Lance shrugged. "What he shouldn't like are sweets," he replied cheerfully. "Maybe that way he will stop gaining weight."

"Indeed."

"Hey, Kogane. I hope you did not take to heart what I said a while ago."

"Not at all," he said softly. "It's good to have some nerve."

Lance was radiant and smiled at the compliment. He walked up to Kogane and grabbed onto one of the branches. "How many branches do you think we'll need?" The Altean asked.

"As many as you need."

Much later, the fire cackled with a tortuous laugh, making tiny sparks as it consumed the wood; the smoke swirled in long strands, losing itself in the dark sky. Under the cloak the Galra had provided, a pleasant wave of heat enveloped them, shielding them from the cold wind that sent the flames dancing. By then, the conversation had died and they could enjoy the comfortable silence in the middle of the night. Kogane had not shown any discomfort by the Altean's advances; on the contrary, his subtle flirtation amused him. It was not in his nature to reciprocate, but he allowed himself to mess around with him when he had the opportunity. First, there was a delicate brush when they were piling the wood, then they sat down together and Lance leaned close to him. And when they were comfortable enough, he considered getting some answers just for the fun of it.

"Will you marry Keith when you get to Galra land?" Kogane asked casually, moving the wood with a branch.

Lance rose slightly, surprised at the new topic of conversation. He paused, contemplating his options, and shook his head. Kogane's eyes grew bigger.

"Why not?"

The Altean's body molded itself into Kogane's arm. He leaned back against it until his fingers reached the Galra's wrist and slid down to his palm. The Altean entwined their fingers and turned to the Galra with an intense red patch on his cheeks; his eyes dropped submissively.

"Your Highness?" Kogane called dully, slightly curious at the sudden proximity and docility he showed.

The campfire lit their faces, brightening the moist lips of the Altean, who seemed to admire him in fascination. Lance opened his mouth, trembling to his knees. His breathing quickened, a tingling sensation ran through his skin from head to toes, his pupils dilated and his heart redoubled like a drum. His voice broke and said, "Before I left, I told my captain I was interested in someone."

"Are you heading to the kingdom when you already have someone in mind?" He breathed, remarkably uneasy.

"No!" said Lance. "Well, you could say I am."

Kogane waited for an answer.

"That person..." he hesitated, running his nails through his hair, glancing at the Galra. "That person is you." He coughed timidly.

Lance's cheeks were painted scarlet, bathed in an incredible anxiety that would not stop whipping him. Kogane continued unalterable, his gaze fixed somewhere else but the prince next to him.

"I like your work and I think you're the only person who understands me. I mean, not everyone studies dragons like you do. Every report is magnificent. I have no words to express how happy you make me and..."

Kogane held him by the chin.

"I admire you," Lance whispered. "It would be an honor to work with you, Kogane. I would do everything you asked me to do. I'd learn how to make a report like you do, no matter how long it takes or where we are. I would be by your side. I mean..." He swallowed hard his own saliva. "I don't know what to tell you. I wanted to talk to you about so many things and... I'm clueless, now that I have the opportunity to do it properly." Lance paused for a longer time, playing with his hands as he usually did. "It may sound crazy, but I wanted to know if you'd be interested in... getting to know each other? I mean, in a not so professional way. I don't know how to put it into words. You must be bored by now," he continued blabbing. "I like you."

Wrinkles forming around his eyes and beneath them, his mouth slightly retracted in the corners, Kogane turned to his direction and replied, "Would you leave Prince Keith for me?"

Lance did not even stop to think twice and nodded firmly. His feelings were overflowing, his heart pounding against his ribs, hammering a way to escape. He needed to release every word he had kept for so many years. Kogane needed to know, to understand his innermost desires. Lance knew he was the Galra he must fall in love with. His writings, his intellectuality, his diplomacy and his beauty... Kogane was the complete package.

"Do you want to kiss me?" Kogane licked his lower lip with dangerous sensuality.

Lance drew his hands to the Galra's jaw, cradling one of his cheeks. With deep adoration, he nodded. Kogane slid his fingers around the nape of the Altean, accepting the gesture. "Yes."

In a fraction, Kogane found himself biting his lower lip, forming two fists with his hands. His shoulders trembled as well. Laughter would overflow if he did not maintain his composure. And it got worse, when Lance's lips resembled a small trumpet, and shortened the distance.

"Prince!" he called out.

Kogane's face moved away and grabbed the Altean from the waist, throwing him out of the seat. He followed him, kneeling beside him and plunging his fingers into the soil, digging a small hole. With the handfuls collected, he put out the fire. In complete darkness, Kogane leaned back against the trunk, dragging Lance with him. He held him, sticking the Altean's spine against his chest and covering them with his cloak up to his ears, creating a tent.

"Kogane, I don't..." he stuttered, blushing. "I've never done this with anyone. Is it okay if I'm a virgin?"

"Shut up," he growled, covering his mouth. He wrapped his arms around his hips and pressed himself against the contour of Lance's bottom. "Don't move."

Lance looked at him expectantly, allowing Kogane to handle him at his whim. Kogane noticed how eager he looked and rolled his eyes, with great effort brought his lips to one of his ears and whispered, "Someone's coming. Don't make a sound or you'll get us both killed."

The steps were firm, advancing through the woods. Branches creaked beneath their feet. And as they continued, there were thick voices and laughter. They also perceived the steeds' gait, wooden wheels crashing against the rocks, and crystals jingling together.

"Are you sure it was around here?" A voice said.

"Yes, I'm always right. I saw a sign of smoke. There are people camping here, somewhere."

Kogane held Lance firmly, who seemed to have been exalted by the voices. The Altean wriggled in his place like a snake against the Galra, and his legs kicking him.

"Did you hear that?" Another one added.

The Galra tried to control him, running his fingers down his thighs to dominate him.

"Stay still or you'll give away our location," he hissed, crushing his virility against his buttocks as he dug his nails into his tanned skin.

Lance resisted, struggling with him. Looking above the Altean's shoulder, the Galra understood the reason for his despair. Apparently, the prince hated arachnids. A giant tarantula was wandering among the grass. Kogane moved him roughly to face him and their gazes met. He sealed his lips against the Altean's, finally shutting him up. His kiss was clumsy, crushing his gums. Lance's mouth moved like a fish, trying to keep up with the ferocity of Kogane, who nipped at his lip, and his tongue massaged the quilted contours. Petrified by the caress, acceding to the delicious taste of the Galra, he continued kissing him timidly, getting used to the rhythm. And the deeper he went, the more he forgot about the eight-legged beast. In the middle of the kiss, Lance moaned.  Both stopped, and Kogane blinked.

"Do not move," Kogane repeated. Lance looked down, covering his mouth and wiping his saliva with his sleeves.

A superior force uncovered them, revealing a grotesque figure that separated them, taking the Altean away from their embrace. The Altean shrieked, as he was being thrown against one of the trees. In front of Kogane, a shadow watched him from above. And with another raucous laugh, many silhouettes appeared with torches in hand. He could recognize them in the light: Ogres.

"Would you look at that?" said one. "What do we have here? A pair of lovers?"

The group headed towards the Galra, leaving behind the Altean. Lance was left over the roots of an apple tree. The blow took him by surprise, leaving him unconscious.

"Hey!" He shouted at one of his comrades. "I can't see shit. Come here."

"Yes, sir."

With the torches lighting them, Kogane identified the symbols drawn on their chests. They were from a kingdom far from the mainland. The ogres came from the northeastern side, a small tropical island where they prepared the strongest alcoholic beverages. The only way they could invade their land was by sailing a ship. But it would take more than fifteen moons to arrive. It was not common to see them, but neither pleasant. They were one of the most infamous creatures of all. Even the elves did not seem so repugnant in comparison.

"He has a pretty face," the chief said, inspecting Kogane with the grip of his machete, placing it under his chin. "Almost like a royal firstborn."

Kogane snorted, pulling his face away from the blade.

"And he has an attitude," the subordinate commented, adjusting his loincloth and licking his lips.

"Don't get horny in the middle of the hunt," he warned, tapping his pack. "You know we cannot touch good merchandise if we plan on selling as a slave in our kingdom. Many nobles will want to pay a fair amount of coins. Especially if he's still a virgin."

Kogane chuckled. "It's so painful to watch how poor you are that you must crawl to my kingdom to beg for charity," he mumbled. "What do you think your royal couple will say when they find out that you attacked me? I could send my troops to sink your filthy island. I think I would gain a fan base for doing everyone a favor. After all, you are a walking aberration."

A blow sent his head back, but it was not strong enough to break his neck. Kogane lowered his head, letting his shoulders tremble again. He looked at them with disdain and smiled, spitting blood on his bare feet. "You ogres, you're trash to us."

A kick fell directly into his stomach, making him cough.

"Boss? Is he... Prince Keith?" inquired another aide, circling with another torch.

Kogane started laughing louder.

"Nah. I heard the prince was a fat creature," the chief replied, not very convinced.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" said Kogane, getting another kick that made him bend down.

The ogres looked at each other.

"Don't mind him," said the chief. "You'd better pick up the Altean and take him with us. Knock the Galra out too. He speaks too much."

One of his peons broke away from the group, holding a rope and went straight toward the Altean. The other two subordinates squatted, grabbing Kogane by the shoulders to begin tying him.

"I'll give you one chance to let us go. And if you do, I'll pretend it was a terrible mistake and you're sorry," Kogane said, allowing himself to be held by the wrists with simple knots.

None of them listened.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he purred. Breaking the rope only took a simple shake that sent a shiver through the ogres. Kogane clenched his fists. The quarrel was shorter than he had anticipated. From lethal cuts with the blade that he carried under the sleeves, the bodies fell one by one, letting the blood stain the leaves. The pleas and shouts were ignored, being music to his ears. When he finished the last thief, Kogane cleaned his nails with a corroded flag and marched towards Lance, who remained private in his place.

"You're the worst prince I've ever met," he admitted, removing a silver lock from his face.

"Kogane..." he whispered drowsily.

The Galra smiled. "At least you compensate it with your prudish kisses and your slutty Altean soul." He gritted his teeth. "My dear prince, who loves being covered in dragon feces."

Kogane slid his arms under his legs and lifted him without difficulty, carrying him through the vegetation toward the palace. After returning to the main road, he spotted a royal chariot in the distance.

When the sun rose up behind the mountains, his servants had reached him. Coran jumped out of the vehicle to cling to his prince and took him gently, studying every fiber of his body. And if he dared to do so, out of distrust of the Galra, he looked under his underwear to make sure of a particular detail.

"Come on," Kogane assured him. "I'm not that kind of Galra."

Coran looked at him sternly.

"The smell that evokes from your lips says otherwise," he hissed. "Prince Keith of the Galra kingdom."

"As guilty as your negligence," he said, raising an eyebrow. "It is not my fault you take care of a damsel who fears spiders and is not an actual prince. I wanted to calm him down the best I could. You cannot hate me for trying."

"You little... Hmph!" Coran glared at him and turned away.

Leaving the woods behind, the high stone walls stretched, widening across the territory. At the gates, the guards crowded, sending the villagers away from the road, who went with their wagons, vegetables, and other supplies to sell at the market. The chariot stopped and the same driver exchanged words with the other Galra, informing them of the arrival of a royal relative. The guard whistled, and the ones in the upper level understood the message and turned the wooden mechanism, dragging the colossal chains that would open the entrance. The grinding of the metals became audible that morning. Many villagers turned to the vehicle, bathing it with roses and other flowers.

"The welcome may be quite annoying, but you'll get used to it," Keith said, looking through the curtains.

"For a prince of your kind, it must be exasperating," Coran replied, placing Lance's head on his lap.

"Are you still mad at me?" He asked without looking at him.

The captain continued crouching, frowning. He has always directed himself respectfully toward the other noble families, though he could make an exception with the Galra fool he had in front of him.

"It's not because of me," he growled. "It's because of Lance. If he knew who you really are, he would be disappointed and heartbroken. He's been wanting to meet you after all these years when you started publishing your works. I saw him sigh, I heard him talk about you non-stop. As much as I don't want to admit it, I imagined you would end up together for some reason. But I did not expect Kogane to be such a cruel creature."

Keith shook his head. "Cruel?" He roared with the same contemptuous tone. "Let me tell you that cruelty runs through the veins of the Altean man you carry. To mock a poor child for being different only proves that he is not worthy to be a prince. Lance is shallow, self-absorbed like a child over an idol that is not real. Now, who did the worst job at educating us? The permissive parents or mine? Besides, I've never denied my real identity."

Coran fell silent and looked at his Highness. Lance continued resting, giving light snores, curled in a ball. He looked so peaceful.

"Lance is immature," he admitted. "And partly, you may be right, but he is a very good Altean. He has a soft heart under his complicated character. He wouldn't hurt anyone out of malice. Why do you not let him go? You shouldn't have invited him to the event."

"You can say many things, but actions are the ones that count," he said. "I did not invite him, my parents did. And you know that it would look like a provocation of conflict if you decided to leave now. You must wait until I choose a suitor. Rules are rules," he snapped, crossing his legs.

Coran nodded. "Why do I think you'll try to humiliate him? Why do I have this feeling that you'll choose to break his heart in a thousand pieces?"

Keith did not hide his smile, leaning over Lance with arrogance. "Who knows?" Keith would not back down, not when he had in mind what to do about Lance.


	5. I AM GONNA MARRY YOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention there might be hybrids in the story. For instance, you will find a Galra with a tail, meaning one of the parents is a tiger lol.

**I AM GONNA MARRY YOU, WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT.**

 

 

Lance felt the kiss had been part of his imagination. A fantasy of his that had found a way to slip into reality, affecting him remarkably. The intensity, in which that longed-for gesture occurred, had made him sleep for a long time. And now, finally, he was waking up. However, certain doubts surrounded him when he opened his eyes and noticed large silver lanterns hung from the ceiling. Too extravagant to belong to his own palace.

Disconcerted by the unusual scenery, he looked around. The room was painted a reddish wine-color and possessed large silver vines, which tangled the entire perimeter and circled an oval mirror, fixed on the wall. The furniture was also carved to house various precious stones that highlighted its magnificence. It was a royal chamber, of that he could not be mistaken. His gaze roamed the pottery on the shelves and he noticed a dome-shaped one. Suddenly, his mind tried to relate it with what had happened. His memories flashed before him: the departure of Altea, the fragrance of the Garla, his lips... Lance jumped, rising abruptly, which sent a ruthless stab to his back that shook him. He let out a groan followed by a low swearing. Those were the effects after the coup. Sore, he leaned back on the pile of pillows and lay still, hopeful that the slightest movement would not unleash a rain of hard stings. He slid his fingers down his torso carefully and realized that he had been bandaged, possibly attended by Galra physicists.

"You’re awake," said a rather jovial voice, unfamiliar to his ears.

In one of the corners, with a fan in hand, a feline figure was staring at him. His dark yellowish orbs gleamed with curiosity, and a kind of excitement at seeing him awake. With a soft knock on his palm, he closed the fan to reveal a wide smile that he hid as he walked quickly to the edge of the bed.

"Who are you?" He growled, frowning irritably. The discomfort in his spine had accentuated. Lance stretched out as best he could and took the man by his wrists. "Where I am? What happened to Kogane?"

"Calm down, your Highness," he pleaded, bowing. He placed his long violet strand of hair over his shoulder, preventing it from falling on the Altean, and laid his hands over his. "My name is Thace. You are in the royal palace of the Galra. You’re safe under our care by orders of Prince Keith."

"Where's Kogane? Is he okay?" He insisted, shaking him, almost ripping one of his sleeves. "Please, tell me he isn’t seriously injured!"

"Kogane has not suffered a scratch. He has managed to escape unharmed from the attack of the ogres. You may not remember it because of the unexpected ambush, but he himself took you back to your captain," he replied calmly.

"And what happened to the couple? I mean, the elf and the human who came in the middle of the night."

"The woman gave birth satisfactorily, your Highness. The physicists who attend our servants made it possible."

Thace’s words worked as he had expected it, and the prince seemed to have calmed down. The wrinkles that had marked the bridge of his nose were also disappearing.Without a range of anxiety or fear eating him, he could breathe easily. Lance released him from his grasp. There were slight bruises on his left wrist and thin threads tangled in the tip of his nails. When he tried to move, he pulled the tissue to the union of the crease of the sleeve. The Altean uttered a muffled scream, carefully disposing of the residue, and murmured in shame,"I’m so sorry!I did not mean to behave like a savage.I just wanted answers. "He covered his face. "I am deeply sorry, Thace!"

"Your Highness should not worry about trivialities. For being a gift of the prince, it has a great sentimental value, but it can be fixed. We have one of the best seamstresses in the region," he said confidently. "And she will be the one to provide you with her new creation for the big night. Would you like to come with me to try it on? After all, you have to be radiant for the ceremony."

"Tonight? Are you referring to the party with Keith's suitors? I thought it would take place some other time. Could we not make an exception and leave me out of this?" He booed, again, feeling a twist in his stomach from the unpleasant news. Lance did not hesitate to hide his disgust. "Keith should know that I like someone else. Maybe he'll let me go. It would be much less offensive for both. And I'm sorry to say, but he's not my type."

Thace's tail wiggled, audible thumps against the cloth that covered his thighs. His smile widened, revealing his sharp fangs. Prince Lance was out of the ordinary. There is no doubt that the royal couple had chosen him for his amusing character, which could be polished with a little affection and patience. Two qualities that will be a challenge to cultivate in the very firstborn of the Garla. And who could be better guinea pig than innocent Lance himself? Of course, if none of them ended up having a ferocious fight before reaching the altar.

"Your Highness, with all due respect, you know the rules. You must attend the party as the rest of the guests," he said, pulling the covers off his feet. "His Highness is a mischievous little fox. Who’s the lucky one who has moved your heart?"

"Kogane," he answered without hesitation.

The Galra nodded, feigning his astonishment, and helped Lance check the condition of his wounds.Once he checked that the swelling had subsided, he performed the same procedure as the physicists had instructed him —anointed Lance with miraculous creams and changed his dressing— and then dressed him in a simple tunic.When he was fully dressed, Thace provided him a protein-rich snack to satisfy his appetite.

Much later, they descended the stairs and walked through the wide passageways on the first floor, walking slowly because of the prince's peculiar interest in the portraits and vast ornaments never seen before. There were statues of fantastic styles, probably from other continents that appreciated rustic and rough materials, not the extravagant examples of the Galra —with its high-caliber jewels and valuable metals—; when it came to the paintings, the vast majority represented the Garla that had reigned for long centuries, yet one of them possessed a very brief date with an imperceptible sketch of a handsome Garla around his thirties.Funny enough, he resembled someone Lance had seen before.

"Your Highness," Thace called, going back to where Lance stood. "We should hurry. Soon this will become a career field with all the servants running back and forth with the preparations. It will get worse as the bell rings.Before dusk the princes and nobles will be arriving."

"What about Kogane?" He asked, averting his gaze from the image. "When can I see him? I need to verify that nothing has happened to him. I also wanted to thank him for his noble gesture. I owe him my whole life."

"His Highness is quite love-struck." He laughed heartily, guiding him down the corridor. "He needs to rest after watching over your well-being. Please, consider the health of both of you, Prince Lance. I understand that you are desperate to see him and speak to him, just remember that everything will be all right if you give it some time. Besides, would you not prefer Kogane to see you dressed up and dazzling?"

The Altean's cheeks flushed at the suggestion. Kogane would fall under his charm if he presented himself perfumed, adorned with elegant accessories that illuminate his best features. The idea was delightful. As he entertained himself with the different scenarios that would provoke, the silhouette of Keith clouded his hallucination with a thick layer of miasma, destroying everything in its path.

"Why are you helping me? Should you not persuade me to bond with your prince? My captain has been bothering me with Keith long before I left, and I would not be surprised if you did the same. But let me tell you that I do not care. My feelings for Kogane will never change," he snorted. He paused and scratched his chin. "Speaking of Coran's lazy ass, where did he go?"

"I just do my job, just like your captain, who has decided to support our troops. You will see him later, your Highness," Thace said."And if I’m allowed to tell you, I have no power to convince your heart otherwise." He cocked his head to one side. "I hope you don’t find it offensive from my side to ask you how you would know. Perhaps you will find my dear prince much more charming when you see him."

"I doubt it. From the moment Kogane saved me, we sealed our destiny. I will be for him forever."

"Many creatures brag about being something they are not. What if Kogane is not what his Highness thinks he is?" He inquired, knowing in advance the answer to his question.

"I cannot be wrong. I know Kogane is not a bad person. He loves dragons, and that kind of Garla cannot be a vile creature. If I was wrong, I would stay by his side to support him and make him a better Garla.The gods can witness my solemn promise."

Thace would have to see it to believe him. He chose to put a stop to the discussion, leading him to a particular gate, unlike the rest. Most of the doors in the castle were of scarlet solid oak with rouged edges with an excessive number of vertically aligned silver spheres, and their locks had been carved to represent the implacable heads of the celestial dragons, which always carried a hoop; this one, however, proved to be simple: carved cedar, accompanied by two rings of iron. Thace pulled one of them, and accompanied the prince inside, closing it behind them. The atmosphere became heavy, not very suffocating, and clouded by steam.

"I hope this is not what I’m thinking," Lance stammered. "I cannot do this with so many people here. Thace, take me to a more desolate bathroom. Preferably, completely deserted." He continued scanning the room until he noticed a group of musicians. "What the hell are they doing here? Are they going to play at the same speed as I wash my balls?"

"Nonsense, your Highness. It is our custom to take a bath with all the servitude at our availability."

"There are more than thirty..." he snorted. "I want to get ready for the party. I’m not giving them a puppet show. No one has the right to see me naked. First of all, I have never had sex!"

A group of maids clenched their lips, though their giggle was quite audible to all.

"Girls, please behave," one of the bathroom servers begged. "Forgive them, your Highness, they are still inexperienced," he added, still kneeling down like the others. "And if I may express my opinion, you should not be self-conscious. We are here to serve you the best we can."

"If you want, we can ask the musicians to leave, and we will keep the best servers we have. Fifteen sounds like a reasonable number, your Highness?"

Lance hesitated, still ashamed.

"I only ask you to cover my manhood," he murmured blushing.

Like all heirs to the throne, Lance was attended with great care by the appointed servants. They took him to a deep bath where they removed the sticky substance that lay scattered on his back; washed his white hair with extracts of exotic fruits and put soap all over his limbs. After drying it, he was moved to a small room on the second floor to comb it with perfumed oils from the rarest flowers in the valley and offered him moisturizers to smooth his tanned skin. Before sunset, a maid sneaked in, approaching Thace with a huge package wrapped in a celestial satin. She greeted him and waited for him to crouch in order to be the same height. Once on her tiptoes, the maid whispered very close to his ear. Thace straightened himself, slightly disappointed, and turned to the Altean.

"Apparently our seamstress is helping the royal family and she will not be able to show you her latest creation," he said, taking the uniform the maid was carrying. "Do not worry about anything, your Highness! We will make your style the best in the room. I guarantee it."

As he untied the satin, the edges fell, presenting a suit as whitish as the thick clouds with threads almost transparent, gleaming like diamonds. And as he unfolded it, there was a wave of awe coming from everyone present. Thace, who had seen every one of the seamstress's inventions, knew perfectly well that this was the best of them all. The fabric possessed extensive embroideries of the same sky, and in the back, a majestic bird expanded its wings.

"It's beautiful!"exclaimed Lance.

"Did I not tell you she was one of the best?" He said triumphantly. Thace laid it carefully on the outstretched arms of several servants, and snapped his fingers. He turned to the servants. "Girls, bring me the accessories."

The young women's hurried footsteps headed toward the closets that had been installed before Lance’s arrival. With the combination of colors in mind, they opened them wide, scrutinizing among jewels, charms, rings, and clips resplendent by the built-in gems. Likewise, the rest began to dress the prince. Little by little, the appearance of the Altean was transformed into a true masterpiece.

At the nineteenth sound of the bell, along with the bustle of the musicians, the voices of the servants and the laughter of the nobles, it had completely darkened. From the top, leaning on the edge of one of the windows of his bedroom, Lance could see everything that was happening in the front gardens. Hundreds of guests carried large presents and were accompanied by their faithful servants on the cobblestone road. He could see the various costumes of the different kingdoms, some more extravagant than others, such as those who wore kimono;and the most daring wore gigantic crowns of multicolored feathers, and only covered their private parts with a loincloth. In order not to obstruct the parade where they could boast of their fortunes, the guards made sure to light each torch on the outskirts of the palace, appeasing a tumult of much humbler people who were dying to enter —undoubtedly, those were the anxious villagers—; and every street lamp in the endless passageways would show the way to the royal hall of the Galra.

"Prince…"

"Ah!" Lance screamed, placing a hand to his chest. "Thace, you should knock before entering.You scared me."

"I'm sorry, your Highness. I just came to inform you that Kogane has required your prompt presence. He has something very important to show you. I came as soon as possible to let you know. He thought you’d like to share some alone time with him before the ceremony."

"Kogane said that?" His face brightened. "What would he want me to see?"

The Altean did not wait for a response from Thace and came out with extreme urgency, its silver ornaments tinkling against each other. He ran nimbly carrying the length of his cape, his boots to the thighs making a funny squeaking sound. After reaching one of the main steps, he came down in awkward jumps that almost made him slide and roll to the base. At the last step, Lance held on the railing and caught sight of the tumult of people he had seen a few moments ago. On the outskirts of the room, many nobles stopped their lively conversation and from having some snacks to gaze at a figure that stood out among the guests. The werewolves, the tigers, the jaguars, the dwarves, and other species followed the Altean with their eyes, whispering their possible identity. Without noticing the air filled with envy and mystery, Lance reached the first level and wandered among all of them, noticing any feature that would differentiate Kogane from those present. On the way, he met many servants carrying large baskets of fruit and trays of gold filled with roasted meats, who bordered banquet tables to refill them. As he approached one of the dishes, he recognized a voice very close to the entrance of the garden.

"It's nice to see you," added a Garla, bowing to his counterpart, holding up a pleasant conversation.

Lance knew who it was. His exceptional golden orbs and a graceful princely profile. Kogane had been dressed in a dark uniform with fuchsia borders and boots to the same level of Lance’s, which were adorned with small floral embroidery. The design on his shoes embellished the colossal dragon that was on his back.

"Lance!" A hand settled on his shoulder, causing the Altean jump a bit in his place. "I've been looking for you!" Coran shouted, catching his breath. "Where were you? I went to your bedroom and I did not find you there." He dragged him to the opposite side, getting in his way when Lance tried to avoid him. "We need to talk. It is of utmost urgency."

"Can it not wait?" He asked, still staring at the Garla, resisting the pressure his captain wielded on his wrists. "I have to talk to Kogane."

"That's just what I wanted to tell you!" He barked. "You cannot go with him."

"What do you mean? Why not?"

The silence was long.Coran contemplated his options and spat, "I like you."

"Don’t say bullshit," he snorted, irritated by the obstacles. "We both know that's not true. You have always told me that I am like a son to you."

"All right! It was a lie, but you have to know that Kogane is not who you think he is. He is the worst of the worst. We must return to the palace. Now!"

The atmosphere around them changed with the rapidity that Lance associated every time Keith's name was pronounced in his presence. Until a few moments ago, a pleasant environment had reigned, but suddenly it had become exceedingly tense.

"What?" He cocked his head angrily. "What are you talking about, Coran? If this is one of your jokes, I'm not in the mood. You don’t know him as much as I do. You know one of my dreams is to marry Kogane." He got him off abruptly, pushing him. "Neither you nor anyone else will tell me who I will end up at the altar with."

"But…!" He stopped him, clutching at his sleeves with his nails. "Listen to me, Lance! Trust me! Kogane is a charlatan. He will make your life a disaster if you agree to be with him forever."

He did not see it coming. Coran, in his mid-thirties, had never received a blow from his prince, one that left him breathless and hunched against the wall. That caught the attention of several viewers, including Kogane. With his head held high, Lance barked,"You disappoint me. Get your stuff ready and go home. And if I see that you are truly sorry, I will consider not breaking off our friendship." At a steady pace, he left.

A smile crept into the face of the Garla, who stood with a drink in hand, watching the scene unleashed by Lance. He excused himself from that fleeting conversation and made his way to meet the Altean. Coran could only watch them in the distance, annihilating him with a ruthless look. He had tried to help his prince futilely, and could only take a watchful expression from the other end. The public humiliation was acceptable as well as the blows and the insults, but it was difficult to bear, to see how a deceitful bastard manipulated the first-born of Altea at his mercy.

"Prince Lance," Kogane said melodically, bowing. "I thought you would not come to the party. What made you change your mind?"

"Kogane," he called in a submissive tone, in stark contrast to the one he had used with Coran. His cheeks were painted pink, the tip of his tongue peering out from the corner of his mouth like a timid earthworm examining the surface. "Who would not accept the call of the person who saved my life? Despite the misfortunes of this ridiculous event, I came to see you to suggest an idea of immense importance. Could you think of it?"

The Garla's hand slipped beneath Lance's chin, lifting his red face with a dominance that had been consented to by both sides. The brightness of the turquoise irises of the Altean showed an obedient submission that amused his companion. When Lance had complained about Keith, his eyes reflected intense hatred, and now, without knowing his true identity, he was as sweet as a puppy. The irony of the matter kept Kogane amused.

"Of course. I remember you promised to pay attention to me," he said, reducing the distance between them as he took a step, brushing the tip of his nose with his."I would love to hear it, your Highness. I mean it, because your intentions are as noble as what you did with the spouses you rescued. A gesture worthy of an heir."

"Please, stop it," he stammered nervously. "You make my heart race. I don’t think I can endure another compliment, having you so close."

"My apologies, your Highness," he said, releasing him. "I am glad to know that I can give you that kind of reaction. It's very sweet."

Lance fell silent, his little heart redoubled like a drum. Kogane held out his hand and waited for the Altean to take it. He did.

"Before I go into details, I'd like you to meet someone. I have heard from you, your Highness. From what we have spoken in the carriage, I know that you’re a true dragon lover. And if I’m not mistaken, you must be a great admirer of the Emperor's children since they know how to train them."

"Have you found anyone who knows one of their whereabouts?" He asked excitedly, squeezing his palm. His eyes widened.

"Something better than that."

They entered the room and saw that all the courtiers were seated on the stools designated as on a chessboard, in front of the thrones that rose like tiny towers without the cracked walls. They conversed amiably, ignoring the two figures who advanced in front of them and their gifts to the host prince. Lance looked at one of the seats: it was empty. Maybe it was his. They both passed by, from time to time, careful not to step on the couples’ feet who were dancing to the beat of drums, gong and other wind instruments. Kogane continued holding him close, traversing the wave of people until they reached the most desolate end. The northeast corner only had floral decorations where pots could reach the height of an adult centaur, about four heads more than the Garla. And around them, in crescent formation, a tiny group sat on one of the stone benches, near tall windows that displayed the rose gardens of the royal garden. The murmurs of these people gave Lance a strange apprehension; it was as if they had just met a meeting where the burial of an entire kingdom was being discussed. He heard a faint cough, and then the voices ceased suddenly, concentrating themselves on the presence of the princes. One of them sat up and turned to see them.

"No way! It’s the Green Paladin!” Lance shrieked, pointing his finger at the individual. "You are the true son of the emperor!"

Like the greenish figurine that the Altean possessed as part of his collection, Pidge, in his human form without the tail and ears, also had the same colors in his uniform made from his own fur. With an indecipherable expression that showed his utter confusion, he blinked repeatedly at the vulgarity and immaturity that Lance's attitude had shown.

"Prince," Pidge said, turning to Kogane.

"That’s right. He is Altea's prince, Lance," Kogane corrected, introducing him with a slight hand gesture. "I suppose you remember me too, your Highness. I am the writer who publishes his own works about dragons and the Paladins."

"Ah," replied Pidge, accepting the request of the Garla. "Yeah, right. Kogane. I would remember it anywhere. What is it? Should you not go back to your seat and watch the celebration? Prince Keith's entrance will be announced soon." He looked at Lance. "And you should be sitting on one of the stools."

Lance stood smiling like a statue decorating one of the pools at the entrance. Pidge was much more beautiful than he had heard in previous events. Although he never got to see him at wedding parties, or any other event, he always heard that his beauty was incomparable with any other creature’s he had witnessed: As perfect as the appearance of a doll shaped by the celestial gods. It was the living reflection of the emperor himself.

"Prince Pidge, it's an honor to meet you," Lance mumbled. "I have no words to show how thankful I am for all the deeds done to maintain the peace in this continent. And if it's not too much trouble, could you give me some advice for prosperity? It would be a pleasure to listen to your wise words."

"It is our duty to protect us all, Prince of Altea. Thank you for your compliments, even if they’re a bit childish." Pidge laughed, nodding. "I hope you have fun tonight." He glanced at Kogane. "I can only ask you, Prince of Altea, to return to your palace as soon as possible. There are some novices like you who should not take risks. The outward beauty of a terrible suitor with a silver tongue like snakes can hide a gnawed heart." He bowed. "If I have been of sufficient help, I hope you can forgive me. I have some business to attend."

"Wait!" Lance pleaded, squeezing his arm. "Prince Pidge, since you are the nearest superior I have, I want you to be my witness." His arm slid decisively around Kogane's waist, gently pushing him to his level.The Garla allowed it, simulating his bewilderment at the audacity.

"What do you want, Prince of Altea?" asked Pidge doubtfully. 

"I have not discussed this with Kogane, but I have the conviction that nothing will change my mind at this point," he said with a range of nervousness gripping his knees; his face flushed to his neck. "I want you to witness my submission to Kogane as his fiancé. I would like him to be my husband in the future. I need you as my witness to prove that I intend to be with him forever. Whatever happens, I’ll be there for him."

The decision made them breathless, especially Kogane, who could not find a way to hide a twisted grimace that formed on his lips. If it were possible, he would burst out laughing regardless of one of his lungs collapsing. Compared to the mockery that would unfold, Pidge showed the opposite. His countenance was dreary.

"Are you sure of what you’re asking? A son of the emperor to be your witness, it is like making a promise before the heavenly gods, a union that cannot be undone, no matter how much you repent.You are practically offering your whole life. Your qualities, your flaws. Kogane will know everything about you. You will be at his mercy."

"That's what I want," he muttered, twining his fingers with the Garla's. "He will be my husband." He turned to Kogane, completely flushed."Will you think about it like I asked?"

"I don’t need to consider it. I accept, your Highness. Prince Pidge will witness our promise. You will not break it, will you?"

"Never," he said, captivated.

"But..." the tiger tried to interrupt.

The twentieth bell had begun its count in one of the highest towers of the kingdom. Pidge's voice was muted by them and the strong blows of the gong, warning the start of the party. The music was interrupted by the march of several uniformed soldiers, who entered in two rows to the hall, separating all the dancers and other guests. Shortly afterwards, a few maids entered with a bamboo basket, spreading petals along the designated path that would lead to the steps of the throne. Then, after a high-ranking officer announced the return of the royal couple, they made their presence hand in hand, greeting those present.

"I guess it's my turn," Kogane said, letting go of Lance's hand. He walked away slowly.

"Where are you going? We cannot interrupt the ceremony. Prince Keith is about to appear."

"Exactly, darling," he said sweetly, snapping his fingers. One of the servants who had remained in the dark handed him a crown. Kogane put it on shamelessly and winked at him. The gesture no longer seemed attractive to Lance and he began to feel the anxiety creeping inside him.

"For the first time in full view to the public, please welcome Prince Keith of the Galra!" The commander shouted.

Under the spell of lighting that had provided a magician, Prince Keith shone like a star before them and was praised for his radical transformation. Keith walked up to the throne without looking back at Lance, and climbed the steps that would lead him to his seat. When he was walking up the stairs, every step seemed to destroy the fragments into even smaller pieces. No pottery had fallen there, it was only the heart of Prince Lance, which was destroyed as one of the most fragile vessels that Keith had achieved in such a short time. As quickly as he had felt on top of the world, Lance fell into a cliff. The strong tide of emotions stole the air, knotting his entrails painfully. His skin became as cold as the dead, numbing his members. And that suffering was transformed into anger. His strands were acquiring a brownish hue as the same flames of hell he wanted to let loose in the palace of the Galra. 


	6. NOT HAPPENING!

**NOT HAPPENING, NOT IN A MILLION YEARS!**

 

 

The voices were perceived in the distance, weak and confused. Some of them seemed to exclaim a list of endless compliments towards the prince of The Galra; others, coming from the suitors who remained seated, admitted to being relieved not to have to take the hand of a possible homunculus that came out of a one-night stand between an ogre and a wild pig. Whatever they said about the Galra's stunning appearance, Lance just wanted them to stop right away. Those compliments turned into adulation that buzzed like irritating mosquitoes, which enjoyed piercing him in the chest, close to the heart.

"Keith?" He called with an indescribable acidity of thick texture that had climbed from the bottom of his stomach. Eager for it to be a bad dream, Lance looked up slowly and looked at the Galra, who sat on the throne with a face full of pride, his lips narrowed in a wide smile that made the Altean feel the bile on the tip of his tongue. And it was there that he realized that it was not a mere nightmare.

Then the discomfort became a tingling sensation in his right arm, an indomitable itch that climbed up the shoulder accompanied with slight thorns. Lance brought his nails over the silky fabric of the tissue and rubbed as hard as he could, making the itch worse. He slid one hand under the sleeve, running it up to the elbow to reveal small circular spots. His scars had awakened, hurting him with the disastrous memory of which they were bound. Still stunned by the round of applause and the rising tide of praise, he remained cemented on the marble, feeling the blood glisten. He squinted his eyes and shook his head with intent to scare away the stench of coagulation mixed with saliva and sweating. But when he opened them, there was no trace of it. Only old canine marks of an infant with a snub nose and stubby fingers, who now sat cross-legged, rocking one of his limbs with the arrogance of a next ruler.

Prince Keith had changed, and as he studied him with hypnotic perplexity, Lance's eyes began to burn. Tears sprang up and overflowed, slidding through his flushed cheeks. His silver hair tinged with a tan like copper from the oil lamps, and his irises bathed in a bright red. Inside, an impetuous flare that had been suffocated in his childhood with a powerful spell, resurrected and spread fiercely through every corner of his body, reaching the tips of his fingers. They throbbed. With his spirit out of control, his hair bristling, his skin frozen like a block of ice, he said, "Kogane."

On this occasion, his voice came trembling, audible enough for Keith to look down. Although it was not necessary for him to shout, Lance had caught the attention of the rest by his sudden transformation. He quickened his pace, bumping his shoulders against the other guests without taking his eyes off the host prince. His heartbeat was going crazy, his heart falling apart with every blow he took from the innumerable guests. And when he reached the first step, the heat he emitted was asphyxiating to those around him; including the guards, who saw him as a possible threat from the aggressiveness presented in his aura. Lance's magic escaped from his pores, shielding him with a fire stolen from the very hell that danced around him.

"Prince Lance of Altea," Keith welcomed, and leaned back against the arm of the seat. "It is a pleasure to see you so... passionate about being here with us. What can I do for you? Would you like a glass of wine? Or perhaps a handkerchief for those tears," he offered, digging into one of his pockets. He took his hand out and turned it in both directions, showing Lance the back of it and the palm. "What a pity. I carry none of that."

"Who are you?" He demanded with a thick groan, his fists clenched with an anger that was hard to dominate.

Keith's eyes seemed to blink with amusement at the question, his lips curving into a humorous grimace. Shortly after, his shoulders trembled and he let out a loud howl. Laughter echoed throughout the room, nullifying the people's whispers. Keith crushed his boots against the carpeted floor and bent with ease, rubbing his abdomen while trying to catch his breath without any success.

"I asked you who the hell you are!" He roared insistently.

Laughter died abruptly, and the Galra's countenance was stoical as one of the many statues that decorated the rose gardens. Keith sat up, descended to the base and bowed with feigned respect towards the alluded one.

"As you know, I am Prince Keith of The Galra. I have also written books about the dragons under the pseudonym of Kogane," he announced pleasantly. The tumult gave a shriek of astonishment and joy. The Galra leaned toward Lance and whispered, "And from now on, I'll be the betrothed of an imbecile Altean who stinks like shit."

Lance's nose wrinkled, distorting his features to a rabid Altean. In one fraction, he made a violent movement as if he wanted to frighten a beast of the underworld. With a jolt back to the top of the throne, Keith managed to dodge the blades that were aimed at his jugular. As a result, the guards wielded their weapons with the vague intention of shielding the firstborn. The royal couple remained stupefied without knowing what order to command, for it was not common for the heir -a sweet little Altean who worshiped dragons and action figures like any other child- to be a lethal threat. Prince Lance had never behaved like a madman in all the years that they had visited him.

"That was close call. Why are you being so hostile, babe?" Keith snorted. "Now that I think about it, I thought the Altean could use their magic to attack. Why do you not do it? Or are you so useless that you can’t?" He asked.

Suddenly, the fine rope that held the crown below the chin was separated. It tilted to one side and fell, bouncing down the steps to the feet of the spectators. Keith, for the first time, looked genuinely uneasy; while Lance gave a half smile of satisfaction to himself. He almost decapitated him and the royal couple would have been left without a successor. Keith rubbed the area and found that he had a slight scratch. Without giving Keith a chance to protect himself, Lance launched himself to the top and tried to plunge his nails into one of his limbs. As if they were going back to their childhood, Keith grabbed him by the wrists and threw him with all his strength to the windows that led to the garden. Lance's back hit the glass, and it shattered; thousands of fragments flew over the lawn and the flowers. Then Keith lunged at the Altean, dragging them both over the herbage. At the speed they went, they pulled all the plants from the root and opened a deep dirt road until one of the pools acted as a hard-rock cushion, stopping them at the base of the stone nymph. Having Lance between his thighs, the position made it easier for him to punch him and leave him muddled with blood from the constant attacks on his nose. Lance, somehow, got Keith to stop by giving him a deep nudge in the intimate area. The Galra collapsed to the side, roaring countless curses. At that moment, Lance took advantage of any visible space to scratch him, to bite him, to kick him in the groin. Moreover, he grabbed him from the bun to shake him at his whim until he tore off part of the jet-black hair Keith had cared for decades.

"M-my hair!" Keith was horrified, palpating his head.

"Take your filthy hair back!" Lance mumbled, shaking a handful of hair. He stamped it against the mud, mixing it with the roots and the dry leaves.

"Son of a...!"

Keith could only see how to climax with the life of the prince of Altea. He tugged on the uniform of his mortal enemy, tearing it at the top with impatience and wrapped the cloth round Lance’s neck with the desire to asphyxiate him; in spite of this, Lance did not remain still. He kicked and wiggled beneath him. By the time they had brought chaos to the party, the crowd had gone out into the gardens.

"Children, that’s enough!" Zarkon demanded.

His voice was authoritative enough to paralyze his soldiers, who made their way awkwardly to the side for the royal family to enter. They kept their heads down, sweating, for when the king raised his voice, they were not good news. But Lance and Keith ignored him.

"It's enough!" He said, taking them by the neck and bumping their heads together.

The two young men stopped, still pissed, and rubbed their forehead because of the hard impact. The fight had ended, though no one was convinced who had won. Both were bleeding profusely, and the bruises made a grotesque contrast with their skins. What about their formal dress! The cloths were tattered rags like the homeless. If they went out to town, anyone would think they were attacked by a group of thugs.

"It's as if we're reliving the event of so many years ago." Haggar, the queen, scrambled across the battlefield with a disapproving look. "What will your parents say, Prince Lance? It's a pleasure to see you, but not in this way." She turned to Keith. "What can I say about you, young man? You’ve got much to explain. And some apologies to announce." She pointed to the line of suitors who had hid inside of the room. Some of them had already left in shock.

"I’m so sorry!" Lance said, deeply mortified. His hair was rinsed to the same silver hue as always; his cheeks burned as if all the buckets of blood had accumulated there. He threw himself at their feet with his forehead on the grass, bowing like the evildoers when they asked for mercy before they were eliminated by the executioners. "I am very sorry for my attitude, Your Majesty! Forgive me, please."

"Don’t be, Prince Lance. We’re the ones who should be apologizing," Zarkon said sweetly as a father would. He stopped in front of him. "Stand up please. We had no idea that would come to our call after the countless letters we sent you. It must have been a nuisance, right? Old kings trying to get the perfect man for our offspring. One very difficult to bear at his age."

"Not at all!" He replied, embarrassed, getting himself to his feet.

"Look at you!" Haggar said. "You've grown up! You're a big boy, Lance. Your parents must be proud of you."

"Bah! An Altean who cannot use magic is almost as useless as a table without legs," Keith growled, folding his arms.

Lance was speechless, uncomfortable with the course of conversation. Haggar approached his son, smacked him behind the head, and barked, "Go to your room. Now."

Reluctantly, Keith left.

"Haggar" Her husband called with a hint of concern.

"Believe me, my love. It hurts me to mistreat my baby, but it is well deserved for being naughty." She turned to Lance. "Prince, I will send for your captain to accompany you to the baths and help you get comfortable. We can talk more calmly tomorrow. I imagine you must be exhausted by the mischief of my foolish son. My apologies! I do not know when my baby became so rude."

"Thank you very much, your Majesty," he mumbled. "I think I know the way back to the bathing room. I could go by myself, if it's not too much trouble," he said, hugging himself.

"You’re trembling, you must be cold. You poor thing. Nobody would like you to catch a cold. Your parents would get angry. Of course, Prince. Your captain will see you as soon as possible."

After waving goodbye, they informed the rest that they would send the necessary preparations so that the suitors were taken to their respective rooms. And those who wished to leave, as well as the other nonparticipating guests, would be given a chariot at their disposal to return to their lands. Some hesitated at the warning, disappointed that they could not share the evening with the handsome Galra prince; others only got pissed since they would not be able to enjoy a good fuck tonight. Compared to the perverted ambitions of those concerned, Lance only thought of washing himself and sneak into one of the carriages in order to go back to Altea.

"Stupid Keith," he hissed under his breath, walking through the halls of the second floor. He turned the corners, meeting the same doors. "Where the hell was it?"

Like the previous time, one of the gates did not possess all the silver ornaments; however, he could not remember if the entrance to the room had a wrought iron or steel lock. He hesitated for a moment if he should enter, for he did not perceive the heavy atmosphere provided by the steam. Suddenly, a strong blizzard struck his back, which was uncovered and scratched by the thorns of the roses. He turned the metal hastily and closed the wood behind him. As his instinct told him, he was in the wrong room. It was not only the lack of ample pools, shelves of creams and soaps, multiple servants and musicians; it was the aberration in front of him: Keith was lying on one of the cushions with his eyes closed, breathing with absolute tranquility. He seemed to be dozing off. Lance swallowed, looking for the handle with his gaze fixed on the Galra. His nails scraped the cedar as he did so.

"What do you want?"

Lance tensed at the casual question, desperate to hear the creaking of the wood as Keith's weight shifted to the other end. Sitting with his shoes on the tapestry, the Galra frowned at him. His short hair ruffled and with dark wicks of different sizes. It was a remarkable difference to the image he had visualized of the handsome Kogane. And that cordial air had vanished. There was only one malicious Galra Coran had warned him about. Lance reached to open the door, determined to leave as best as his legs could run.

"I could smell your unpleasant scent from the moment you reached this floor."

The steel would melt in his hands if he continued to hold it rigidly. Lance pressed the handle, allowing his magical energy to re-emerge more easily and wander to the length of his fingers. Sick of the humiliating comments, he slammed the door and spun around. Again, his hair had become brownish.

"My scent does not compare to the scumbag that you are, disgusting Galra."

To counterattack with an equally poignant insult made Keith let out a petulant giggle. He nodded with a better expression.

"It's pretty easy to make you angry, Lance. Tell me the truth, leaving jokes aside, why did you not use your magic?" Keith asked. "When the ogres attacked us, you could summon a simple spell that could protect your back. In the same way, you had the chance to burn me with the fire that emanates from your interior. Are rumors true that you are a good for nothing? I’ve heard that no one wants to marry you because you are a prince who does not bind or untie."

"I'm not going to use my magic on people like you, Keith. I don’t need it. And now that we are going to ask ridiculous questions, tell me, what joy brings you to play with the feelings of others? Is it because of what happened when we were little?" He asked in a dying tone, almost stifling the moans that sought to escape his throat. "Because, if you wanted to make fun of me, congratulations, you did it. You hurt me! So fucking much."

Keith shrugged coolly. In fact, very little had to do with the old memories they both held. To the Galra, the prince of Altea was the perfect creature with whom he would have to reach the altar. He was an idiot, useless by birth, sentimental to the toes, and above all things: he detested him. Lance would not bother him. He would simply use him as a curtain to fulfill his obligations.

"I would never stoop so low," Keith admitted. "Well, I can make an exception with you for what you did to my hair. But I'm not that cruel. Let's say your debt has been paid off when you were about to bawl like a puppy upon learning who Kogane really was. It's a pity you took the news with so little maturity. We would have gotten married in a heartbeat. The best ceremony of the whole continent. Would you not like it?"

"W-what? Do you want to marry me after what happened? I don’t understand... Did you like me in any way? According to the rumors and by your attitude, you never wanted to be a husband, but you sent hundreds of invitations. To make matters worse, you harassed me with bribes to come to your castle. You seduced me, lied to me and mistreated me. Do you not think that's enough?"

"Of course I do not want to get married. Have you seen how many filthy creatures want to sleep with me? They're more than a half. I would have to attend to them relentlessly if we had continued with the party. Sit with them, talk about stupid things without ceasing to smile as if I were made of stone," he said. "Thanks the heavens, that's where you come in, Lance. What better postulant than one who despises me with all his soul?"

"So… you don’t like me?"

"You? Like you? Ha! I see you have a sense of humor. Don’t be such a fool. Your feelings towards me are just as valuable as the price of a rock submerged in the ocean. And rest assured that I will never be interested in you in a romantic way."

The Altean blinked several times in silence.

"I still don’t understand your purpose," he finally said.

Keith put his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

"We're going to get married, whether you like it or not," sighed Keith, defeated by the fool's naivete. "You hate me. It means that you are not going to force me to have children, you will not interrupt me when I have more important things to do. After I break your heart, you will not want to see me. And since nobody wants to marry you, at least you will have the title of king of second command in The Galra nation. We will both no longer be bachelors, and we’ll fulfill our duties as kings. End of the story."

"You want us to marry for convenience!"

"Well... That took you so much time. Yes, Lance," he confirmed. "It will be the best for both of us. Our parents are lifelong friends, the people will be more than happy. In addition, we have the blessing of Pidge as our marriage witness. What else do you want? A fucking chariot pulled by a stupid dragon? I could fix that, though I'm not a fan of those lizards."

"It's inconceivable!" Lance shrieked, waving his arms in the air. "We cannot get married! There is no way for me to be next to you for all eternity. It's sickening. No, no and no. Suck my balls, you filthy Galra. I’m out of here!"

Before he could reach the door, Keith was blocking him; His golden orbs shining menacingly. He pushed Lance, sending him to collide with a book shelf.

"Listen to me, stupid Altean," he warned sternly. "You and I will get married, even if I have to drag you to the altar by the hair. It is the least you can do for our kingdoms, after what your infamous ancestor did to mine. His mere existence was offensive. A complete seducer of children, presumptuous and perverted who dared to have more than one suitor," he added bitterly. "My ancestor did not deserve to die at such an early age for unrequited love. My relatives considered him the best progenitor of all. Do you know how difficult it was to recover our lineage? It is unfortunate that your family's offspring worsens when your parents have proven to be decent Alteans. A real misfortune to the kingdom of Altea."

"Wh-what! Are you crazy! I don’t know what the hell my lineage has to do with yours. And what our ancestors have done is not our fault. I'm not like... like the Altean you describe. Firstly, I believe in love and its purest expression, that is why it is impossible for us to end up together like the next kings of Altea and The Galra."

"You do **not** decide that," he said, taking Lance's chin. "We are engaged, whether you puke on me or not. No matter how much the idea makes you sick, your parents want you to marry me, my parents too, including the commoners; so behave like a sweet little Altean, and listen to me. You will not want to make me angry."

Lance pushed him away.

"Fuck you, Keith."

"With that little mouth you kiss your parents?"

"With this mouth I'll split your butt in half if you don’t shut the fuck up."

His movement was precipitated and brought Lance closer, to the corner of the room, almost crashing into one of the tall vessels that reached his hips. The two started a battle to designate the dominant creature, disputing their differences with audible grunts. From time to time, Lance would try to make him trip, but Keith dodged him perfectly. And so, the game lasted for another sound of the bell. With his wounds open, the dirt of the mud and vegetation glued to the fabric, Lance insisted on teaching him a lesson.

"Your captain must be looking for you. You should go, bathe and ask the physicists to take care of your injuries," Keith advised, evading a weak kick from his counterpart. "You know? Maybe I feel a little guilty for playing tricks on you. Although I've treated you like a rag doll, you have good stamina."

"Shut up," he said, holding onto Keith's shoulders. "I don’t need you to pity me. I am a prince, and I will not marry you for anything in the world. You are a poor devil who only uses the acceptance of people to the point where you are forced to sacrifice your true love."

"True love? That only exists in children's stories. It is a silly belief that an unfortunate man developed for creatures who are sore losers such as yourself. They think that love will triumph and fight all evils." He tipped the tip of his foot into the curve of Lance's leg and knocked him back into the chair. "Accept it. They are pure hoaxes. The reality is this: We only serve to govern and bring a next heir to the throne."

The Altean's will was crushed by Keith's strength on his wrists, and his weight on his torso made it impossible for him to get up. Keith just smiled from above. He had won.

"You're wrong. I know that somewhere out there, there is someone who will love me with my flaws and virtues. I do not care if he's a commoner, a nobleman or a prince. He exists."

"It's a shame I could not destroy your desire to fall in love. I figured breaking your heart would make you stray from love and its so called wonders. I don’t know. It would have been much easier for you to end up whining for eternity. Maybe I underestimated you, Lance," he crooned, leaning on him. "But you’ve just proved that you’re willing to make this more complicated for the both of us. Should I tear your heart out and mince it?"

"Don’t care. I know that love exists."

"Prove it."

Lance's defiant gaze -those turquoise irises that sprouted again like buds- cast doubt on the Galra's conviction. Keith stopped mocking him, believing he had imagined his uncertainty toward the Altean's belief. It gave him a terrible chill that ran down his spine. The sensation was rare, hard to digest. It is as if he had awakened a new intrigue in him. For some strange reason, he did not dislike Lance. He loved to mock him to some extent. A thin thread that separated him from cruelty and the innocent mischief that fluttered in his intense personality.

Under the doorway, someone cleared his throat. They had not noticed the presence of two figures, who watched them with an entertaining grin.

"Keith," Haggar said playfully. "You rascal! And to think your father had to read a silly book in order to seduce me. My baby is definitely very smart. You made it look like a fight to get away from the guests, and now, you're trying to hook up with Lance as soon as possible. Little ruffian!"

"Hook up?!" Lance shrieked, blushing brightly. He turned to Keith. "Get off!"

The scene, now that he thought about it, was very compromising. Prince Lance stood with his back uncovered and full of small bruises that could pass for wild kisses; the hole in his pants that showed the thickness of his thighs and his hair completely disheveled. And Keith was not far behind. His clothes were also tattered and his lips were red from the bites he gave himself out of rage. In addition, the position in which they were found did not help to clarify the situation.

"It's a misunderstanding," Lance added. "We were not doing what you believe we were."

"My fiancé is right. I was only showing him how to lie down once we were ready to consummate our love," Keith corrected sharply, standing by the side of the furniture.

"K-Keith!" 

"It does not bother us. I think your parents will be more than happy to know that you get along so well. But the wedding will have to wait. After all, if you want to get married, you have to spend the thirty moons together," said Zarkon.

"Thirty!" Lance shouted frightened.

"It is part of the tradition to know if you are destined to remain together. Although I do not think it is necessary. Pidge told us what happened," Haggar said. "By the way, we saw your captain looking for you, Prince Lance. You should meet him at the royal spa. I'll have one of the guards to guide you."

"Did he come back? I thought he would leave when I asked him to."

"Your captain would not leave without you, Prince," she added. "If it really was a mistake, there are two entrances to the spa. The nearest one will be found in the hall with two iron hoops, just at the back this room. Surely you had visited it before and had not remembered it for having left to the party in a hurry."

"I understand, your Majesty. Thanks a lot," Lance mumbled.

"Of course. Hopefully you guys can wait until the ceremony to practice how to consummate your love. I've never seen Keith so helpful."

"That's why I am here, Mother." Keith winked at the Altean, who could not hide his stupor.

Lance said goodbye to the couple and ran off quickly. He could still hear the funny squeaking sound that his boots made. Keith heard them until they were lost in one of the corners of the palace, and concluded that he had a new goal: To subject Lance to his whims. After seeing his various reactions, he was sure that he had made the right decision to torture him. Or did he mean to marry him?

 


	7. HELP!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I know I haven't uploaded a new chapter (Chapter 8). And that's because I and Lizzy are correcting my grammar mistakes lol. I might take a couple of days, depending on the things we gotta do (like university and all). Hope you can be patient :)

**HELP! PLEASE, DAD! THERE'S A PURPLE BASTARD TRYING TO KILL ME.**

 

 

Lance shifted under the covers, his back facing the wall.Moonlight fell on the goose feather comforter that sheltered him from the cold breeze of the early morning, which was pleasant enough to dry the trail of tears on his cheeks.The wind tossed the flaps of the windows, sending the latch crashing against the wooden frame several times. Lance, still drowsy, slipped through the thick cover and brought his foot to the floor. His fingers closed against the sole and his hair bristled against the icy surface. If he had not been so tired, he would have jumped to the third level. In a final attempt to stop the unbearable noise, he stepped on one of the blankets that had slipped during the night. When he finally tried to leave the bed, one of his legs had entangled in the sheets. Lance lost his balance and fell flat on his face, waking him up completely.

"Fuck!" He groaned in pain, rolled up in a ball and held his face in his hands. "For the love of...!" He clutched his fists. "For the love of bashing Keith’s brains in!"

After swearing as much as he wanted, he lay down on the floor with his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The cold had ceased to be a nuisance; rather, it alleviated the terrible tension he had accumulated since he decided to confine himself in his bedroom. He considered that seeing Keith's face would only make him sick and would plunge him into a vicious circle, where he did not stop hating himself and continued mourning the streak of bad luck. After a deep sigh, he gripped the edge of the bed to stand up and walked up to the window. Another cold breeze hit him, hardening his nipples. Lance reached the lock as fast as he could and slammed the flaps shut.

"You could have asked me to do it for you. You shouldn’t be up."

The doors were opened carefully, and closed in the same way. Lance turned toward the entrance, catching the languid face of his captain. Coran's face was slightly sunken, his lips were chapped, his braid was messy, and thick bags formed under his violet eyes. Their brightness had also faded. Apparently, he had not been able to fall asleep on these four moons either. Seeing his prince in such a deplorable state also had a lethal effect on his own health, though he never wanted to admit it. Without saying another word, he marched holding a silver tray and placed it on a small table next to the bed.

"I brought you some water," Coran said, pouring the liquid into a ceramic cup."I thought you would be thirsty. Would you like me to get you something to eat? One of the cooks offered me a beef tamale in case you woke up with an appetite."

"I'm not hungry, thank you."

"Lance," he replied uneasily, offering him the cup. "You haven’t had anything since our arrival. You need to eat or you will get sick. At least take a sip. You have cried so much... I’m scared you might end up drier than a flower in autumn."

Even if Lance looked down at his feet, he could not hide how exhausted he was. Coran could recognize that he had a good cry, and it may have lasted longer than it should have. Under the dim lighting, his eyes were crystalline with thin veins that resembled reddish lianas, and the skin around them was swollen. Lance refused the drink, pushing it against his captain's chest, and moistened the front of the armor.

"Leave me alone, please," Lance murmured, returning to the warmth of his bed. He wrapped himself up to his ears.

The tunic he wore beneath his armor had absorbed every drop, sticking the cloth to his torso. Coran ignored the unpleasant sensation, and placed the cup back on the tray. Then he went to his prince and sat down on the edge near the headboard. Lance felt himself rolling to one side by the sudden weight, but he had no intention of getting out of his cocoon, and clung to the blankets.

"Lance," he called softly, bringing his palm over one of his shoulders, forcing him to look at him through a hole. Lance turned to him, dejected. Crying for days had left him drained and with a throbbing headache.

"What do you want?" Lance growled, breathing loudly through his nose.

"I am sorry."

Lance was speechless. He could not figure out what might have motivated his captain to apologize. He wasn’t at fault. Lance knew that bitter expression all too well; he knew that it was something that could not be taken lightly. With one of his fingers, rough and callous after years of hard work and the countless times he had dedicated himself to fencing, Coran loosened the cover that protected his prince, his touch being less coarse than it could be. Lance gave in, allowing his head to be uncovered.

"Why would you say that?" Lance asked. "It's me who should be apologizing. I have abused of my stupidity and treated you worse than a stray dog. I only know how to open my mouth to say nonsense. And I do not know how the hell Prince Pidge did not punch me to shut me up. He surely thinks I'm an asshole now."

"I know you're not like that."

"I'm disorganized, I cannot defend myself, I only use my magic to draw, my suitor is the damned prince of the Galra, and I've become the laughing stock of the entire nation," he interrupted. He covered his face, a moan escaped his lips. "Keith is right. I'm a disgusting parasite. A good for nothing. A loser!"

"Lance, don’t say such things. That’s not true."

Coran uncovered him completely and pulled him into his arms, wrapping him in a clumsy caress and rubbed his back. Lance, with tears overflowing, clutched at him the best he could.

"Do not listen to that idiot," Coran grumbled. "To me, you're like a bee. Maybe you were one in your past life."

"Do you think I work as hard as a worker bee?"

"No," he snorted. "You were the bee that brought garbage instead of nectar. Your companions were tired of reminding you and drowned you in honey."

"Are you trying to make me angry? Because you're about to succeed," Lance warned.

"I'm just telling the truth," he said with total conviction, giving him a slight pat on the back. "Those bees did not appreciate the jokes you could tell. You were the harlequin of the hive. You had a gift to make others laugh. You don’t need to be as clever and handsome as Keith. Under all those layers of abnormalities, you are a good Altean. You have good health and a big heart."

"You're not helping me…" He jerked him away.

It was very ambitious of Coran to think that his advice would cheer him up. It had worked with other Alteans who were around the same age. Why was it not just as effective with his prince? Who would have thought that training the young soldiers of his company was a less complex task? Their discipline and handling were a matter of using exercises he could find in the old writings of his superior, where he explained in detail what should be done in multiple situations against an inexperienced recruit. However, now that he considered it carefully, the prince may prefer a different way of approaching the subject. Coran sighed, discouraged by the new discovery.

"I'm sorry, Lance. I'm doing a terrible job," he said, scratching his neck. "I would like to know how to deal with this, but I don’t have enough knowledge about the field of love. All these years, I went out with a single woman that could take anyone's breath away." He sighed, pleased with the memories, and added, "In a small village, the southern part of Altea, near the territory of the wolves, lived a beautiful Altean called Bonnie, whose home was next to mine. Every morning I went out early to help her with the chores."

"You never told me that," interrupted Lance, vaguely mortified. "Why did you keep it a secret? I remember asking you if you had ever fallen in love, and you told me you hadn’t."

"And I did not lie to you. She liked me, and we went out for a while until I decided to enlist myself to serve the kingdom. We tried to keep the relationship afloat for a good time. Unfortunately, it did not work. Certain rumors reached my ears of her bad reputation. Fame as terrible as Keith's… She was not what she looked like. She was not a sweet, innocent girl. It broke my heart, a little bit."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Coran. I did not mean to remind you of such bad times. I know you'll find someone better than Bonnie... Did you guys end the relationship on good terms?"

"Well, the last I heard of _him_ was that he stopped using his magic to pretend to be a girl and he wanted everyone to call him Bob. If we had the chance to meet again to chat, I would have given him an opportunity to give me an explanation. But I guess it’s impossible now."

"What? Why?"

"One night, after having sex with his last client, he got drunk.The villagers said he stole a pig and a bottle or whiskey, and rode it off a cliff. You may suspect what happened next." He slapped his thighs and tried to sit up. "It's a story that I hope you will not tell anyone .It’s one of my greatest embarrassments, which I would like to take to the grave."

After such tragic story, a small smile formed on Lance's lips as he imagined it. He wiped the rest of the discharge from his nose, and yawned. The heavy feeling in his throat had disappeared as well as the oppression in his chest, and the desperate hammering that harassed his head. He felt light, free from the gloomy energy that had surrounded him since his confinement.

"Coran."

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I feel a little better."

Coran nodded cheerfully.

"I'm always here to serve you."

More than a captain, Coran was a special Altean. He deserved to have a prosperous future next to a true companion. This is how Lance thought, who was eternally grateful to have him as a friend.

"Since you’re up," Lance said. "Could you get me something to eat? I could eat a cow right now."

"Certainly," he said. "Hopefully the cook still has those tamales. They say it's one of Keith's favorite dishes. Do you need anything else?"

"If they are his favorites, bring them all to me," he growled, folding his arms.

"You can be so childish, Lance," he said affectionately. "Keith would ask for more to be prepared. It wouldn’t make much of a difference... Although I’ve heard he’s been too busy to enjoy one. They have seen him extremely enervated by the number of suitors with whom he has to deal with until the dusk. He has been rejecting them one by one. I do not know what he’s up to, but it cannot be good."

"He's probably waiting for me to come out of my room so he can take advantage of my presence to make fun of the fool I was, and will announce to everyone that he intends to marry me. In the meantime, he is gaining time, refusing to fall into the arms of anyone else." Lance turned to his captain. "What should I do? I need some advice from anyone who knows how to handle these events. Like a… strategist in social relationships."

"Why do you not write to your father? King Alfor must have a vast list of contacts that could help us. It is best to stay within these four walls. I will have to think of something so that the royal couple doesn’t suspect of your behavior. They've been asking about you, and I've had to lie to them."

"You're right. Please bring me a brush, ink and a couple of sheets to write a letter. You will pick it up in the morning and take it to one of the best messengers in the capital."

"Understood."

Coran promptly left the bedroom and made his way through the corridors. Seeing him down one of the stairs toward the kitchen, Thace peered through one of the corners and continued his way, passing Lance's room with a straw basket. He reached one end and went up the stairs until he reached the third level. He passed through the clear passageways and stopped in front of a door. The brightness of some blades blinded him momentarily. He protected himself from the light with one of his sleeves, and announced, "It's me. Thace."

The Shadows, high-ranking special magicians who can hide in the dark like ghostly beings, hid their weapons and snapped their fingers. The wood creaked as it opened. Thace entered, still feeling disgusted by the threatening aura they emitted. Although their encounters are frequent, his knees never cease to tremble as he approaches them. Their bodies seemed to be made of the very ice of the glaciers. The doors closed behind him.

"Thace," Keith said, laying down the tea from his lips. "What kept you entertained for so many moons? I sent out the guards to look for you to every corner of the nation after your mischievous behavior." He set the pottery on the table with a solid authoritarian blow. "You know I **hate** it when you disobey me."

"I do not know what you're talking about, your Highness."

Keith's eyes showed a burlesque spark, and somehow a repressed nuisance. He held onto the edges of the wood and stood up. He skirted around the table and stood in front of his servant.

"You have a noble heart, Thace," he agreed. "Wanting to help that Altean was a feat. Leaving him in the middle of the room so he gets a chance to meet up with his captain when I clearly asked you to bring him to me without any sort of interruption," he added in detail. "I hope you think about it twice next time or you will make **me** angry."

The warning was accompanied by a cold stare, which then shifted toward a chair near the window. Keith moved in its direction, undoing the buttons of his uniform. With a gentle tug, the fabric slid over his shoulders and hung, fastened to his waist. He tied up his sleeves and sat down, exposing his bare chest and torso.

"You know what to do," Keith said, pointing to his head.

Thace advanced toward him, placed the basket at his feet and extracted a razor. He had not manipulated any hair other than his own. In his youth, it had been one of his hobbies to provide several cuts, though he considered he was rusty at his age. He pulled the ribbon, took one of the Galra's strand of hair, and began to cut the sides.

"Your Highness, how could you think so badly of your servant?"

"Stop acting, Thace. I may not have eyes in the back of my head, but I know you smile cheekily when you are aware of your disobedience."

Thace did not hold back the laughter, and nodded.

"You're very clever, your Highness."

 _And dangerous,_ thought Thace. A prince with such qualities, such as diplomacy, intuition, and the insatiable need to possess any knowledge, were part of the nature of a true heir. And if he added the sharp attitude of a genius, it would create an indomitable creature. If Keith continued on that route, without the support of a partner who could balance his flaws, a dim future would await him. Thace finished arranging the back and continued with the front, splitting the longer strands hanging from Keith's forehead. He cut off the tips and fixed the bangs.

"Well? Are you not going to tell me where you went?" Keith insisted, closing his eyes as he felt Thace's fingers touch the bridge of his nose. "No lies this time, okay?"

"General Kolivan and I took the liberty of going to investigate the scene. We found the bodies of some dead ogres, food and blood traces of the alleged survivors of their attack."

"I understand the northern side has not noticed any abnormalities in our perimeters. No one has broken the field of protection that surrounds our kingdom. I have no idea how the hell they have managed to get in undetected." He paused, trying to avoid being exasperated. "Did they confirm the condition of the other regions?"

"Yes, your Highness. We rode with a small company. We followed the trail uphill, near one of the rivers we share with Altea and Valaisland, kingdom of the elves. I am afraid to tell you that we have lost their footsteps. We crossed it with difficulty, but there were no traces of carts or other evidence that can help us. They just... they vanished."

Keith nodded. The information was not comforting. Being aware of the sudden report was overwhelming. The infiltrators had to be eliminated from the root, and he would take the necessary measures to eradicate them. Ogres have been despicable creatures, whose purposes have always been considered barbaric practices. Perpetual slavery, mistreatment of animals and sexual abuse of minors were the most infamous. After a long time, there was a solution, moderately manageable. Among the best magicians of each kingdom, only some managed to contain them in their own kingdom. And now, they may have found a way to escape under their noses.

"And what about the couple we brought? The human who gave birth and her abominable husband," Keith said. "If they are still here in the palace, do not let them go. Ask General Kolivan to handle the interrogation. It is very suspicious that they were in the middle of the road, before the attack. We cannot- " He fell silent, and crouched down.

"Are you feeling alright, your Highness? Do you want me to stop for tonight? We could continue in the morning… Would you like me to prepare your bed? I would recommend taking a break."

There was no answer. Keith leaned back against the back of the chair, and noticed his headache buzzing behind his temples. Thace's voice was heard distant. Then he noticed a sharp noise in his ears that briefly stunned him.

"Your Highness?" Thace insisted. "Should I call over one of the physicians to examine you?"

"No," he finally said. "You don’t need to wake them up. Keep going. Once you're done, I'll get some sleep. At dawn, I have to finish with the last group of suitors. They have been a colossal stone in the boot... I am anxious to see them leave my kingdom. I would kick them out, if it were not for the cordiality I have to fake."

"So you've made up your mind… Will you announce your engagement to Prince Lance?" He asked casually, resuming his work.

"It is my duty to marry the best one, Thace. Lance is the highest bidder, since he is an incompetent Altean and easy to manipulate," Keith said. "Speaking of that fool, do you know what happened to him? I have not seen him since the party, but I know he has not escaped my dominions."

"He has been in his room the entire time."

Keith arched his eyebrows in surprise and rolled his eyes. There was an expression of slyness that accompanied his gestures of disapproval and bewilderment. _Is he a child to do that? What an idiot,_ Keith thought.

"I spoke to your parents, your Highness," Thace said. "They told me that they could not contact Lance. Apparently he’s suffering from a nasty stomach ache. The servants said that he had been indisposed; however, others say they've heard him crying," he added worriedly. "I think you should give him a personal visit."

"What about his captain?"

"Captain Coran is the only one who has been able to talk to him. One of the cooks tried to get some information from him, and he was rather reserved about the condition of his prince. No one but that Altean knows what is going on with Prince Lance. Anyway, it is very obvious that he refuses to leave his bedroom."

"I guess I'll have to find a way to get the bunny out of his hole." He laughed softly.

And by the time Thace had finished, he swept away the residue and filled a small cloth bag with the hair. He took his basket and made his way out.

"Sweet dreams, your Highness." Thace turned to the door and disappeared behind it.

A few bells before dawn, Keith poured himself some tea. And after taking a sip, he spit it out. It was cold and the taste was disgusting. The acidity of the fruit peels, the leaves that had puffed at the base of the pottery and the pieces of a tree bark accentuated a rough texture that irritated his palate. Absorbed in thoughts, he had forgotten to ask his servant for another teapot. He poured the liquid into the pot and placed his cup in the tray.

When he ended up getting bored, he moved and stretched his legs over the rest of the seats. That was not the position he wanted. He turned to one side, putting his arms over his head. He was not comfortable in that position either. No matter what position he acquired, he was uneasy. There was so much to do, and for the first time, he did not know where to start. His plan was perfect, as far as his advances had come with Lance, but the new scenario with one of the most fearsome enemies was unforeseen and annoying. Keith rose slowly. The fatigue was intensifying with each blink.

No, he would not go to sleep, even if he had to slap himself awake with all his might. If Thace would keep him informed of the progress of the case, he should continue with the marriage ceremony. It would make sense to own the soldiers of Altea, and together, initiate a better investigation in both territories. He then concluded that Lance would be his priority. He had no idea what fuss he should cause to get him out of there, but his instincts knew that the answer would flow when he least expected it.

He ran out of his bedroom. And before he could go down the stairs, a cold breath hit his back. Keith turned toward them.

"I'm not going outside the palace," he said, studying the threshold. He could not see them, but the Shadows were there. "I'm going to visit the Prince of Altea."

They responded at the same time, one more severe than the other with a gust that lifted the sleeves of his uniform. With a snap of their fingers, his clothes came to life and snaked up his chest, accommodating themselves like they were before Thace's visit. Keith, fully dressed, folded his arms.

"You’re acting worse than a nanny," he protested. "I'm going to go and see him, whether you like it or not."

The Shadows let out a grotesque snore, a deep, macabre laugh that also frightened Keith. With another finger movement, a specter came out in the form of a giant hand, twice as large as Keith, and trapped him like an insect. The doors opened and he was thrown inside. The Galra propelled himself with his palm so as not to fall on his face and landed on the carpeted.

"Which side are you on!" Keith yelled. "First my parents, my own advisor, and now the Shadows. Have you forgotten who your prince is? Stupid Altean... Is it because of his funny and pointy ears?" He continued, shaking his fist. "Or is the new haircut that you don’t like?" He murmured uneasily, palpating his head.

Keith did not say another word and leaned over the window. He had done it before, when he was a child. He had been punished for eating more than half of the desserts that were reserved for all the guests. His father had left him without dinner. Who did he think he was to stop his voracious appetite? And as if remembering the beginning of his adventure, he tied his sheets to one of the columns and descended, pushing himself from time to time. When he reached the edge of the lower floor window, he found it closed.

"Should I kick it? That might alert the Shadows," he said to himself.

On the other side, he heard a voice, a caring tone. And as he spoke, he heard footsteps approaching. The latch was released and the wooden flaps opened. Keith moved away quickly, sticking his back against the wall, hiding among one of the Galra ornaments that decorated the corners.

"Let's hope those tamales do not give you a terrible stomach ache," Coran mumbled, bringing his hands to his hips. He shook his head. "You swallowed all them, just so Keith does not eat them. You're impossible, Lance."

Lance’s only answer was to fart loudly. He continued snoring, ignoring his captain.

"And a pig," he added, covering the tip of his nose. "Rest well. Do not forget to seal your letter. I'll pick it up later."

The captain strode out of the room. Keith, still hidden, peered out and walked along the edges. He went through the flower pots and took a long leap to avoid them, getting inside. With the sheets on the floor, Lance was fast asleep with his belly uncovered and his limbs extended, one of his legs dangling from the edges. Keith thought found it kind of cute, especially the lump that made him look pregnant. Skillfully, he approached the Altean. The first thing that caught his attention was the smile of satisfaction that he profiled. What made him so happy? Was he dreaming of something nice? And if so, now that Lance was quiet, he could appreciate his refined features.The length of his eyelashes, his small nose, his lips and the shape of his face. Keith studied him more closely, leaning over. Lance's hair was really beautiful and he could not help it,  but stroke one of his strands.

If Lance had not been so unnerving, he would have considered courting him properly.

"Kogane," Lance mumbled in his dream.

The Galra's eyes widened at the sound of his name and he stepped back. Why would he dream about him? Why did he look so happy? Was he really in love with his other identity?

"Keith," he called, distorting his face in complete disgust.

And when he squeezed his lips, a flatulence escaped from between his cheeks. Keith backed away in shock. Anything positive that he had been considering about Lance, went out of the window. Tempted to punch him in the face, Keith tried to ignore his impulses and turned to the rest of the room. He had come to provoke him, not to admire him. As he looked at every corner of the room, a piece of paper caught his interest.

"What do we have here?" He whispered, grabbing it. He unfolded it and began to read it. As he did so, moving from paragraph to another, he could not resist frowning. Besides the spelling mistakes, terrible writing and an ineligible letter, Lance had bathed him in insults. He had written Keith was a monster and kept complaining about him to his father, King Alfor. How dare him!

"I'm sure King Alfor will have so much to say about this," he hissed, picking up a new sheet. He sank the brush and began to write.

After bidding farewell to the king, Keith folded the letter and placed the royal seal of the prince of Altea. He put it in an envelope and closed it with warm wax. Before leaving through the window, he guessed that one last mischief would make the rabbit come out of his hole and would try to bite him. When he put everything back in its place, he reached out for the sheets.

"See you at breakfast."

Keith climbed back to his room.


End file.
